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D.  Apple  ton  fy  Co.  publish 

I   PEOMESSI    SPOSI, 

OR 

THE   BETROTHED   LOVERS. 

BY 

ALESSANDRO    MANZONI. 

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ning of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  tale  of  the  Betrothed,  to  whose  union  obstacles 
are  continually  occurring,  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  state  of  society,  moral  social,  re- 
ligions, and  political,  at  that  time.  It  is  an  admirable  adjunct  to  history,  furnishing  a 
Key  to  the  strange  events  that  occurred  in  the  peninsula,  during  the  prevalence  of  Span- 
ish dominion  there.  Manzoni  has  here  truly  realized  his  quaint  idea  of  history — true  his- 
tory, which  analyzes  society  to  its  elements — '  taking  prisoners  by  force  the  Years  of 
Time,  already  dead  ;  calling  them  to  life,  bringing  them  under  review,  and  re-arraying 
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possible  variety  of  agitating  matter — '  battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death' — the  bravo,  oi 
hireling  assassin,  the  plotting  monk,  the  venal  and  voluptuary  noble,  on  one  side  of  the 
picture  ;  while  maiden  constancy,  chivalric  devotedness,  simple  truth,  and  civic  virtues 
brighten  the  other.  It  is  a  work  which  has  made  a  greater  sensation  in  Europe  than  that 
of  any  other  writer  of  fiction,  since  the  publication  of  the  Waverly  series.  We  recom- 
mend it  to  the  perusal  of  all  who  have  leisure  to  lose  an  hour  or  so  in  the  company  of  the 
accomplished  author,  amidst  the  exciting  scenes  of  life  in  Italy  two  centuries  ago."— 
Southern  Patriot. 

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English  form.  The  elegant  simplicity  of  the  style  will  render  it  popular,  especially  among 
the  younger  classes  of  readers,  and  its  faithful  but  minute  description  of  the  famine,  riots, 
and  the  plague  in  Milan,  rival  in  force  and  pathos  the  pages  of  our  own  immortal  Defoe. 
The'storv  is  of  the  most  natural  and  touching  character — the  plot  being  the  prolonged 
separation  of  the  betrothed  lovers  just  at  the  eve  of  marriage.  The  date  is  rather  more 
than  two  centuries  ago,  and  the  work  gives  a  vivid  portraiture  of  that  lawless  age."  — 
Bath  Chronicle. 

"  We  are  delighted  to  meet  with  this  masterpiece  of  modern  fiction  in  a  form  which 
mav  render  it  accessible  to  the  English  reading  public.  The  Italians  consider  '  The  Be- 
trothed '  the  first  fiction  of  the  age,  holding  some  affinity  to  the  school  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  but  surpassing  his  works  in  power  and  depth,  as  we  confess  it  certainly  does  in 
moral  design.  '  The  Betrothed  '  is  well  translated  and  very  handsomely  got  up  ;  so  as  to 
be  entitled  by  its  dress  to  appear  in  the  most  refined  circles,  and  by  its  intrinsic  qualities  to 
charm  und  instruct  every  clan  of  readers." — Tait's  Magazine. 


SUMMER  IN  THE  WILDERNESS ; 


EMBRACING 


A  CANOE  VOYAGE 


UP  THE  MISSISSIPPI  AND  AROUND  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


BY 

CHARLES    LANMAN, 

AUTHOR    OF    "ESSAYS    FOR    SUMMER    HOURS,"    ETC. 


And  I  was  in  the  wilderness  alone. 

Bryant. 


NEW- YORK: 
D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY,  200  BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA : 
GEO.  S.  APPLETON,  148  CHESNUT-ST. 

MDCCCXLVII. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1847, 

By  D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District  of  New -York. 


* 


<y 


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x 


n-1 

LIU 


TO 

JAMES    F.    MELINE,    ESQ., 

OF 

CINCINNATI,    OHIO, 

THIS    VOLUME 

is, 

WITH     FEELINGS     OF     THE     HIGHEST     RESPECT, 
AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED, 

DY   BIS    FRIEND, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PACK 

Saint  Louis — a  Western  Artist — Twilight  in  a  Cathedral,      .         .     13 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Lower  Mississippi — Entrance  to  the  Upper  Mississippi-— The 
Lower  Rapids — Scenery — Rock  Island,    .         .         .         .         .20 

CHAPTER  III. 
Starved  Rock  on  the  Illinois — Legend  of  the  Illinois  Indians,  .         .     26 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Nauvoo — Temple  of  Nauvoo — A  Mormon,  and  his  story — Superb 
Panorama,       ..........     30 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Upper  Rapids — Scenery — Prairie  Du  Chien — Battle    of   Bad 
Axe — The  Winnebagoe  Indians — Winneshic,  Chief  of  the  Win- 
nebagoes — A  Visit  to  his  Wigwam,  .         .         .         .         .34 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Lead  Region — Anecdote  of  a  noted  Western  Character,       .         41 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Alpine  Region  of  the  Mississippi — Lake  Pepin — Wabashaw, 
Chief  of  the  Sioux — An  Old  Woman,  and  her  story — Legend  of 
Winona,  ........••     45 


10  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Red-Wing  Village — Lake  Saint  Croix — Little  Crow,  a  Sioux  Chief 
— Scenery,       ..........     51 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Mouth  of  the  Saint  Peter's — Dog  Feast — Playing  Ball — The  Sioux 
Indians — The  Soldier  Artist — A  Naturalist — Carver's  Cave — 
Beautiful  Waterfall — Falls  of  St.  Anthony — Legend  connected 
with  them, 56 

CHAPTER  X. 

A  Ride  on  Horseback — Grouse  Shooting — A  Wilderness  Supper — 
A  Race  with  a  Pack  of  Wolves, 64 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Crow- Wing — Famous  Battle  fought  here — Legend  of  the  White 
Panther — Hole-in-the-Day,  Chief  of  the  Chippeway  Indians — 
The  Scalpless  Indian — Indian  Swimmers — Begging  Dance — 
Torchlight  Fishing,  ........     68 

CHAPTER  XII. 
The  Indian  Trader — The  Fur  Trade, 75 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Spirit  Lake — Legends  of  the  Mysterious  Spirit — Story  of  White- 
Fisher — Story  of  Elder-Brother — Outside  Feather — Legend  of 
the  Mole, 80 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Mississippi — Lake  Winnepeg — Bear  Hunt — Bear  Feast — A 
Dream,  and  its  Fulfillment — Manner  of  Treating  the  Dead — A 
Wilderness  Grave-Yard,  .......     85 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Red  Cedar  Lake — The  Chippeway  Indians — Their  Country — Their 
Idea  of  Creation — Their  Religion — Their  Heaven  and  Hell — 
Their  Manner  of  Winning  the  Title  of  Brave — Their  Manner  of 
Life — Their  Idea  of  Marriage,  and  Mode  of  Courtship — Their 
Hospitality, 91 


CONTENTS.  11 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Elk  Lake  and  Surrounding  Region — Legend  of  the  Mammoth  Elk — 
Four  Wilderness  Pictures,         .......     98 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Leech  Lake — The  Pillagers — The  Medicine  Dance — The  Medicine 
Society — Virgin  Dance — Red  River  Trappers — Legend  of  the 
Two  Women — Legend  of  Pelican  Island — Legend  of  a  Battle 
between  the  Gods  of  the  White  and  Red  Men — Original  Indian 
Corn — Game  of  this  Region,    .......   104 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Fish  of  the  Mississippi — A  Catfish  Adventure — Spearing  Muska- 
lounge — A  Trouting  Adventure,       .         .         .         .         .         .110 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Sandy  Lake — A  queer  way  of  making  a  Portage,  .         .         .117 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Saint  Louis  River — The  Chippeway  Falls — Fon  du  Lac — Sce- 
nery of  the  Lower  Saint  Louis,  and  Passage  to  Lake  Superior,     121 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
General  Description  of  Lake  Superior,  ......  128 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

American  Shore  of  Lake  Superior — Picturesque  Cliffs — Isle  Royal — 
Apostle  Islands — La  Point — Indian  Payment — Streams  Empty- 
ing into  the  Lake,    .........  132 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Canadian  Shore  of  Lake  Superior — Thunder  Cape — Cariboo  Point — 
The  Island  Wonder,  with  its  Watch-Tower  and  Beautiful  Lake — 
Menaboujou — His  Death  and  Monument,  ....   136 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Voyager — My  Voyaging  Companions — Our  Mode  of  Travelling, 
with  its  Pleasures  and  Miseries — Making  Portages — Passing 
Rapids — Narrow  Escape — The  Voyager's  Cheerfulness — Cana- 
dian Songs — Voyaging  on  Superior — A  Midnight  Prospect,       .   141 


12  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  Copper  Region — Rich  Discoveries — Copper  Companies — Point 
Keweenaw — Its  Towns  and  People — Upstart  Geologists — A  Con- 
glomerate Paragraph,        . 152 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Sault  Saint  Marie — Fish  of  Lake  Superior — The  Lake  Trout — 
The  Common  Trout — The  White  Fish — A  Run  down  the  Sault,    157 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mackinaw — Arched  Rock — Robinson's  Folly — The  Cave  of  Skulls 
— The  Needle — An  Idler's  Confession — Mackinaw  in  the  Sum- 
mer and  in  the  Winter — Its  Destiny,         .....  162 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Recollections  of  Michigan,    .         .         , 167 


SUMMER  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Saint  Louis,  June,  184&. 

The  River  Queen,  as  Saint  Louis  is  sometimes  called,  is 
looked  upon  as  the  threshold  leading  to  the  wild  and  roman- 
tic region  of  the  Upper  Mississippi.  It  was  founded  in  the 
year  seventeen  hundred  and  sixty-four,  by  two  Frenchmen, 
named  Laclade  and  Chouteau,  who  were  accompanied  by 
about  thirty  Creoles.  The  first  steamer  which  landed  here 
came  from  New  Orleans  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and 
nineteen  ;  but  the  number  now  belonging  here  is  rated  at 
three  hundred,  many  of  which  are  unsurpassed  in  speed  and 
splendor  of  accommodations.  The  population  of  this  city 
amounts  to  forty  thousand  souls.  It  is  elevated  some  eighty 
feet  above  the  low-water  mark  of  the  Mississippi,  and  from 
the  river  presents  a  handsome  appearance.  The  old  part  of 
the  town  is  inhabited  by  a  French  population,  and  is  in  a 
dilapidated  condition  ;  but  the  more  modern  portion  is  distin- 
guished for  its  handsome  streets,  and  tastefully  built  man- 
sions and  public  buildings.  Fronting  the  levee  or  landing 
are  several  blocks  of  stone  stores,  which  give  one  an  idea  of 
the  extensive  business  transacted  here.  On  one  occasion  I 
saw  this  wharfing  ground  so  completely  crowded  with  mer- 
chandise of  every  possible  variety,  that  travellers  were  ac- 
tually compelled  to  walk  from  the  steamboats  to  the  hotels. 

2 


14  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


This  city  is  the  home  market  for  all  the  natural  productions 
of  a  wilderness  country  extending  in  different  directions  for 
thousands  of  miles,  and  watered  by  several  of  the  laro-est 
rivers  in  the  world.  Its  growth,  however,  has  been  some- 
what retarded  by  the  peculiar  character  of  its  original  in- 
habitants. The  acknowledged  wealth  of  many  of  its  leading 
men  can  only  be  equalled  by  their  illiberality  and  want  of 
enterprise.  But  time  is  committing  sad  ravages  among  these 
ancient  citizens,  for  they  are,  from  age  and  infirmities,  almost 
daily  dropping  into  the  place  of  graves.  Under  the  benign 
influence  of  true  American  enterprise,  this  city  is  rapidly 
becoming  distinguished  for  its  New  England  character,  in 
spite  of  the  retarding  cause  alluded  to  above,  and  the  bane- 
ful institution  of  Slavery.  In  fine,  it  possesses,  to  an  un- 
common degree,  all  the  worthy  qualities  which  should  belong 
to  an  enlightened  and  eminently  prosperous  city. 

There  is  one  unique  feature  connected  with  the  River 
Queen,  which  gives  it,  at  times,  a  most  romantic  appearance. 
It  is  the  point  whence  must  start  all  distant  expeditions  to 
the  North  and  West,  and  where  the  treasures  of  the  wilder- 
ness are  prepared  for  re-shipment  to  the  more  distant  mar- 
kets of  our  own  and  foreign  countries.  Here,  during  the 
spring  and  summer  months  may  often  be  seen  caravans 
about  to  depart  for  California,  Santa  Fe,  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  Oregon,  while  the  sprightly  step  and  sparkling 
eye  will  speak  to  you  of  the  hopes  and  anticipations  which 
animate  the  various  adventurers.  At  one  time,  perhaps, 
may  be  seen  a  company  of  toil-worn  trappers  entering  the 
city,  after  an  absence  of  months,  far  away  on  the  head  waters 
of  the  Mississippi  and  Missourijivers,  where  they  have  hunted 
the  beaver,  the  buffalo,  the  otter,  the  bear,  and  the  deer  j  and 
as  they  steal  away  to  their  several  homes,  from  the  door  of 
the  Fur  Company,  where  they  have  just  rendered  their  ac- 
count, it  does  the  heart  good   to  ponder  on  the  joys  which 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  15 


will  be  brought  into  existence  by  the  happy  return.  And 
the  Indians,  from  different  nations,  who  often  visit  this  place, 
also  add  greatly  to  the  picturesque  appearance  of  its  streets. 
Summoned  by  curiosity,  they  congregate  here  in  large  num- 
bers, and  while  their  gaudy  trappings  and  painted  faces  re- 
mind  us  of  the  strange  wild  life  they  lead,  their  prowling 
propensities  and  downcast  eyes  inform  us  of  the  melancholy 
fact,  that  they  are  the  victims  of  a  most  heartless,  though 
lawful  oppression.  This  remark,  by  the  way,  reminds  me 
of  a  living  picture  which  I  lately  witnessed,  and  will  briefly 
describe.  It  was  the  sunset  hour,  and  I  was  returning  from 
a  ride  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  great  river.  The  western 
sky  was  flooded  with  a  saffron  glow,  in  the  midst  of  which 
floated  unnumbered  cloud-islands,  tinged  with  deepest  gold. 
Underneath  lay  the  beautiful  city,  with  its  church-spires  up- 
pointing  to  the  Christian's  home ;  then  passed  the  rushing 
tide  of  the  Mississippi  ploughed  by  many  a  proud  keel ;  and 
in  the  foreground  was  a  woody  bluff,  on  the  brow  of  which 
sat  a  solitary  Indian,  humming  a  strangely  solemn  song,  as 
his  white  locks  and  eagle  plumes  waved  in  the  evening 
breeze.  I  asked  no  question  of  the  sorrowing  dreamer,  but 
pursued  my  way,  pondering  on  the  cruel  destiny  which  has 
power  to  make  man  a  stranger  and  an  exile,  on  the  very  soil 
from  which  he  sprang,  and  where  repose  the  ashes  of  his 
forgotten  kindred. 

Lover  as  I  am  of  genuine  art,  it  will  not  do  for  me  to 
leave  this  city,  the  sturdy  child  of  a  new  and  great  empire, 
without  alluding  to  its  treasures  in  this  particular.  The 
bright  particular  star,  who  uses  the  pencil  here,  is  Charles 
Deas.  He  is  a  young  man  who  left  New-York  about  eight 
years  ago,  for  the  purpose  of  studying  his  art  in  the  wilds 
west  of  the  Mississippi.  He  makes  this  city  his  head-quarters, 
but  annually  spends  a  few  months  among  the  Indian  tribes, 
familiarizing  himself  with   their   manners  and  customs,  and 


16  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

he  is  honorably  identifying  himself  with  the  history  and 
scenery  of  a  most  interesting  portion  of  the  continent.  The 
great  charm  of  his  productions  is  found  in  the  strongly  mark- 
ed  national  character  which  they  bear.  His  collection  of 
sketches  is  already  very  valuable.  The  following  are  a  few 
of  the  pictures  which  I  saw  in  his  studio,  and  which  pleased 
me  exceedingly.  One,  called  the  Indian  Guide,  represents 
an  aged  Indian  riding  in  the  evening  twilight  on  a  piebald 
horse,  apparently  musing  upon  the  times  of  old.  The  sen- 
timent of  such  a  painting  is  not  to  be  described,  and  can  only 
be  felt  by  the  beholder  who  has  a  passion  for  the  wilderness. 
Another,  Long  Jake,  is  the  literal  portrait  of  a  celebrated 
character  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  looks  like  an  un- 
tamed hawk,  figures  in  a  flaming  red  shirt,  and  is  mounted 
on  a  black  stallion.  He  is  supposed  to  be  on  the  ridge  of  a 
hill,  and  as  the  sky  is  blue,  the  figure  stands  out  in  the  bold- 
est relief.  Artistically  speaking,  this  is  a  most  daring  effort 
of  the  pencil,  but  the  artist  has  decidedly  triumphed.  In  a 
picture  called  Setting  out  for  the  Mountains,  Mr.  Deas  has 
represented  a  species  of  American  Cockney,  who  has  made 
up  his  mind  to  visit  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  is  mounted 
on  a  bob-tailed,  saucy-looking  pony,  and  completely  loaded 
down  with  clothing,  pistols,  guns,  and  ammunition.  He  is  ac- 
companied by  a  few  covered  wagons,  a  jolly  servant  to  be 
his  right-hand  man,  and  two  dogs,  which  are  frolicking  on 
the  prairie  ahead,  and  while  the  man  directs  the  attention  of 
his  master  to  some  game,  the  latter  shrugs  his  feeble  shoul- 
ders, seems  to  think  this  mode  of  travelling  exceedingly  fa- 
tiguing, and  personifies  the  latter  end  of  a  misspent  life. 
You  imagine  that  a  few  months  have  elapsed,  and,  turning  to 
another  picture,  you  behold  our  hero  Returning  from  the 
Mountains.  Exposure  and  hardships  have  transformed  him 
into  a  superb  looking  fellow,  and  he  is  now  full  of  life  and 
buoyancy,  and  riding  with  the  most  perfect  elegance  and  ease 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  17 

a  famous  steed  of  the  prairies.  The  wagons,  servant  and 
dogs,  are  now  in  the  rear  of  our  adventurer,  who,  comically 
dressed  with  nothing  but  a  cap,  a  calico  shirt,  and  pair  of 
buckskin  pantaloons,  is  dashing  ahead,  fearless  of  every  dan- 
ger that  may  happen  to  cross  his  path.  These  pictures  com- 
pletely epitomize  a  personal  revolution  which  is  constantly 
taking  place  on  the  frontiers.  One  of  our  artist's  more  am- 
bitious productions,  represents  the  daring  feat  of  Captain 
Walker,  during  a  recent  memorable  battle  in  Mexico.  The 
story  is  that  the  Captain,  who  happened  to  be  alone  on  a 
plain,  had  his  horse  killed  from  under  him,  and  was  himself 
wounded  in  the  leg.  Supposing,  as  was  the  case,  that  the 
Mexican  savage  would  approach  to  take  his  scalp,  he  feigned 
himself  dead,  as  he  lay  upon  his  horse,  and  as  his  enemy 
was  about  to  butcher  him,  he  fired  and  killed  the  rascal  on 
the  spot,  and  seizing  the  reins  of  his  enemy's  horse,  he 
mounted  him  and  rode  into  his  own  camp.  In  the  picture 
Walker  is  in  the  act  of  firing.  But  the  picture  upon  which 
Mr.  Deas's  fame  will  probably  rest,  contains  a  large  number 
of  figures,  and  represents  the  heroism  of  Captain  James 
Clarke,  who,  when  about  to  be  murdered  by  a  council  of  In- 
dians at  North-Bend,  threw  the  war-belt  in  the  midst  of  the 
savages,  with  a  defying  shout,  and  actually  overwhelmed 
them  with  astonishment,  thereby  saving  his  own  life  and 
those  of  his  companions.  This  picture  is  true  to  history  in 
every  particular,  and  full  of  expression. 

But  enough  about  these  productions  of  art.  I  am  bound 
to  the  fountain  head  of  the  Mississippi,  and  feel  impatient  to 
be  with  nature  in  the  wilderness.  Before  concluding  this 
chapter,  however,  I  will  describe  a  characteristic  incident 
which  I  met  with  in  Saint  Louis. 

I  had  been  taking  a  lonely  walk  along  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi,  and,  in  fancy,  revelling  amid  the  charms  of  this 
great  western  world,  as  it  existed  centuries  ago.     My  mind 


18  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


was  in  a  dreamy  mood,  and  as  I  re-entered  the  city  the 
hum  of  business  fell  like  discord  on  my  ear.  It  was  the 
hour  of  twilight  and  the  last  day  of  the  week,  and  the  citi- 
zens whom  I  saw  seemed  anxious  to  bring  their  labors  to  a 
close  that  they  might  be  ready  for  the  Sabbath. 

While  sauntering  leisurely  through  a  retired  street,  I 
was  startled  from  a  waking  dream,  by  the  sound  of  a  deep- 
toned  bell,  and,  on  lifting  my  eyes,  I  found  that  I  stood 
before  the  Catholic  cathedral.  I  noticed  a  dim  light  through 
one  of  the  windows,  and  as  the  gates  were  open,  I  remem- 
bered that  it  was  the  vesper  hour,  and  entered  the  church. 
The  inner  door  noiselessly  swung  to,  and  I  found  myself 
alone,  the  spectator  of  a  most  impressive  scene.  A  single 
lamp,  hanging  before  the  altar,  threw  out  a  feeble  light, 
and  so  feeble  was  it,  that  a  solemn  gloom  brooded  throughout 
the  temple.  While  a  dark  shadow  filled  the  aisles  and  re- 
mote corners,  the  capitals  of  the  massive  pillars  on  either 
side  were  lost  in  a  still  deeper  shade.  From  the  ceiling 
hung  many  a  gorgeous  chandelier,  which  were  now  content 
to  be  eclipsed  by  the  humble  solitary  lamp.  Scriptural 
paintings  and  pieces  of  statuary  were  on  every  side,  but  I 
could  discern  that  Christ  was  the  centre  of  attraction  in  all. 
Over,  and  around  the  altar  too,  were  many  works  of  art, 
together  with  a  multitudinous  array  of  sacred  symbols.  Just 
in  front  of  these,  and  in  the  centre  of  the  mystic  throne, 
hung  the  lonely  lamp,  which  seemed  to  be  endowed  with  a 
thinking  principle,  as  its  feeble  rays  shot  out  into  the  sur- 
rounding darkness.  That  part  of  the  cathedral  where 
towered  the  stupendous  organ,  was  in  deep  shadow,  but  I 
knew  it  to  be  there  by  the  faint  glistening  of  its  golden 
pipes  :  as  to  the  silence  of  the  place,  it  was  perfectly  death- 
like and  holy.  I  chanced  to  heave  a  sigh,  and  that  very 
sigh  was  not  without  an  echo.  The  distant  hum  of  life, 
alone  convinced  me  that  I  was  in  a  living  world. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  19 

But  softly  !  A  footstep  now  breaks  upon  the  silence  !  A 
priest  in  a  ghost-like  robe,  is  passing  from  one  chancel  door 
to  another.  Another  footstep  !  and  lo  !  a  woman,  clothed  in 
black,  with  her  face  completely  hidden  in  a  veil,  passes  up 
an  aisle  and  falls  upon  her  knees  in  prayer.  She  has  come 
here  to  find  consolation  in  her  widowhood.  And  now, 
slowly  tottering  along,  comes  a  white-haired  man,  and- he, 
too,  falls  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  With  the  pleasures  of 
this  world  he  is  fully  satisfied,  and  his  thoughts  are  now 
taken  up  with  that  strange  pilgrimage,  whence  travellers 
never  return,  and  upon  which  he  feels  he  must  soon  enter. 

Other  life-sick  mortals,  have  also  entered  the  sanctuary, 
offered  up  their  evening  prayer,  and  mingled  with  the  tide 
of  life  once  more.  But  again  the  front  door  slowly  opens, 
and  a  little  negro  boy,  some  seven  years  of  age,  is  standing 
by  my  side.  What  business  has  he  here, — for  surely  this 
ofFspring  of  a  slave,  and  a  slave  himself,  cannot  be  a  re- 
ligious devotee  ?  I  take  back  that  thought.  I  have  wronged 
the  child.  The  Spirit  of  God  must  tabernacle  in  his  heart, 
else  he  would  not  approach  the  altar  with  such  deep  reve- 
rence. Behold  him,  like  little  Samuel  of  old,  calling  upon 
the  Invisible  in  prayer  !  What  a  picture  !  Twilight  in  a 
superb  cathedral,  and  the  only  worshipper  a  child  and  a 
slave  ! 


CHAPTER  II. 

Rock  Island,  July,  1846. 

I  have  sailed  upon  the  Mississippi,  from  the  point  where 
it  empties  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  all  the  way  up  to  the  little 
Lake  which  gives  it  existence,  and  I  now  intend  to  record  a 
description  of  its  scenery  and  prominent  characteristics. 
The  literal  meaning  of  the  Chippeway  word  Meseeseepe  is — 
water  every  where — and  conveys  the  same  idea  which  has 
been  translated — father  of  waters.  When  we  remember  the 
immense  extent  of  the  valley  watered  by  this  stream  and  its 
hundred  tributaries,  this  name  must  be  considered  as  singu- 
larly expressive. 

That  portion  of  the  river  known  as  the  Lower  Mississippi, 
extends  from  New  Orleans  to  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  a 
distance  of  about  twelve  hundred  miles.  As  the  highway 
for  a  multitudinous  number  of  steam  vessels  of  every  size 
and  character,  it  is  of  incalculable  importance,  not  only  to 
this  country  but  to  the  world  ;  but  with  regard  to  its  scenery, 
it  affords  little  of  an  interesting  character.  Excepting  a 
few  rocky  bluffs  found  some  distance  below  Saint  Louis,  and 
in  the  vicinity  of  Natchez,  both  shores  of  the  river  are  low, 
level,  and  covered  with  dense  forests  of  cotton-wood  and 
cypress,  where  the  panther  and  the  wolf  roam  in  perfect  free- 
dom, and  the  eagle  swoops  upon  its  prey  undisturbed  by  the 
presence  of  man.  The  banks  are  of  an  alluvial  character, 
and  as  the  current  is  exceedingly  rapid,  the  course  of  the 
river  is  constantly  changing.  You  might  travel  a  hundred 
miles  without  finding  a  place  sufficiently  secure  to  land  ; 


BVBCMBB    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  21 


and  the  water  is  always  so  very  muddy  that  a  tumbler  full 
will  always  yield  half  an  inch  of  the  virgin  soil.  The  sur- 
face of  the  stream  is  never  placid,  hut  forever  turbulent  and 
full  of  eddies  and  whirlpools,  as  if  its  channel  were  composed 
of  a  continued  succession  of  caverns.  Snags  and  sawyers 
abound  throughout  its  whole  extent.  They  are  taken  from 
the  shore  by  the  rushing  tide  and  planted  in  the  channel 
quite  as  rapidly  as  the  snag-vessels  can  extricate  them  from 
their  dangerous  positions. 

The  Lower  Mississippi  (always  excepting  the  still  more 
frantic  Missouri)  is  probably  the  most  dangerous  and  least 
interesting   river   in   the   world   to  navigate.     When  not  in 
actual  danger,  you  are  likely  to  be  so  far  removed  from  it, 
high  and  dry  on   a  sand  bar,  that  the  annoyance,  like  a  cer- 
tain period  in  our  national   history,  has  a  tendency  to  try 
men's  souls.     The   following  picture  of  an  actual  scene  on 
this  portion  of  the  great  river,  may  be  looked  upon  as  charac- 
teristic of  the  whole.      On  your  right  is  a  series  of  rocky 
blurts,  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  trees,  before  you  an 
expanse  of  water  ten  miles  long  and  two  wide,  on  your  left  an 
array  of  sand  bars  and  islands,  where  lie  imbedded  the  wrecks 
of  some  fifty  steamboats,  and  in  the  more  remote  distance 
a  belt  of  thickly  wooded  bottom  land.     On  the  water,  passing 
to  and  fro,  are  a  number  of  steamers,  and  immediately  in  the 
foreground  a  solitary  sawyer  and  the  hull  of  a  sunken  steam- 
boat.    This  is  the  spot  which  has  been  rightly  named  the 
Grave  Yard,  for  hundreds  of  souls  at  different  times  have 
passed  from  thence  into  eternity.     When  I  left  the  turbid 
and  unruly  bosom  of  the  Lower  Mississippi,  I  felt  towards  it 
as  a  person  would  naturally  feel  towards  an  old  tyrant  who 
had  vainly  striven  to  destroy  him  in  his  savage  wrath.     I 
should  remark  in  passing  that  the  bottom  lands  of  this  river 
are  not  wholly  without  inhabitants  ;  occasionally  a  lonely 
log  cabin  meets  the  eye,  which  is  the  only  home  of  a  miscr- 

2* 


22  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNES3. 

able  being  who  obtains  his  living  by  supplying  the  steamers 
with  wood.  Nailed  to  a  stump  before  one  of  these  squatter 
residences,  which  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  small  clearing,  I 
saw  a  board  with  the  following  inscription, — "  This  farm  for 
sale — price  $1  50."  Though  I  could  not  help  laughing  at 
the  unintentional  wit  of  that  sentence,  it  told  me  a  melan- 
choly tale  of  poverty,  intemperance,  and  sickness,  which  are 
too  often  identified  with  the  dangers  of  this  wilderness. 

I  would  now  speak  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  and  I  only 
regret  that  I  cannot  strike  the  poet's  lyre,  and  give  to  this 
"parent  of  perpetual  streams"  an  undying  hymn  of  praise. 
The  moment  that  you  pass  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  on  your 
way  up  the  Father  of  Waters,  you  seem  to  be  entering  an 
entirely  new  world,  whose  every  feature  is  "  beautiful 
exceedingly."  The  shores  now  slope  with  their  green  ver- 
dure to  the  very  margin  of  the  water,  which  is  now  of  a  deep 
green  color,  perfectly  clear,  and  placid  as  the  slumber  of  a 
babe.  My  first  view  of  this  spot  was  at  the  twilight  hour, 
when  the  time  was  holy,  and  every  object  that  met  my  gaze 
seemed  to  have  been  baptized  with  an  immortal  loveliness. 
Over  the  point  where  the  sun  had  disappeared,  floated  a 
cavalcade  of  golden  clouds,  and  away  to  the  eastward  rolled 
on,  along  her  clear,  blue  pathway,  the  bright,  full  moon,  and 
now  and  then  a  trembling  star, — the  whole  completely  mir- 
rored in  the  bosom  of  the  softly  flowing  but  ever  murmuring 
stream.  On  my  right  lay  a  somewhat  cultivated  shore  ;  on 
my  left  a  flock  of  islands,  whose  heavy  masses  of  foliage 
rested  upon  the  water ;  and  in  the  distance  was  the  pleasant 
and  picturesque  town  of  Alton,  with  its  church  spires  speak- 
ing of  hope  and  heaven.  No  living  creatures  met  my  gaze, 
save  a  wild  duck  and  her  brood  gliding  into  their  shadowy 
home,  and  an  occasional  night-hawk  as  he  shot  through  the 
upper  air  after  his  living  food  ;  and  no  sound  fell  upon  my 
ear,  but  the  jingling  of  a  distant  cow-bell  and  the  splash  of  a 
leaping  sturgeon. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  23 

Another  picture  which  makes  me  remember  with  unal- 
loyed pleasure  this  portion  of  the  Mississippi,  was  a  scene 
that  I  witnessed  early  in  the  morning.  The  sky  was  with- 
out a  cloud,  and  the  pleasant  sunshine  fell  upon  my  cheek, 
like  the  kiss  of  one  whom  we  dearly  love.  On  either  side 
of  me  was  a  row  of  heavily  timbered  islands,  whose  lofty 
columns,  matted  vines,  and  luxuriant  undergrowth  of  trees, 
told  me  of  a  soil  that  was  rich  beyond  compare  but  seldom 
trodden  by  the  foot  of  man  ;  and  in  the  distance  was  an  open 
vista,  beautified  by  other  islands,  and  receding  to  the  sky. 
Now,  unnumbered  swallows  were  skimming  over  the  water, 
uttering  a  shrill  chirp;  then,  the  cry  of  a  disappointed  blue 
jay  would  grate  upon  the  ear ;  now,  a  boblink  and  black-bird 
held  a  noisy  conversation,  and  then  the  croak  of  a  raven 
would  descend  from  the  top  of  some  dead  tree  ;  now  the  mock- 
ing-bird, the  dove,  the  red  and  blue-bird,  the  robin  and  the 
sparrow  favored  me  with  a  chorus  of  their  own,  while  the 
whistle  of  the  quail  and  the  lark  would  occasionally  break 
out  to  vary  the  natural  oratorio.  And  to  cap  the  climax,  an 
occasional  flock  of  ducks  might  be  seen,  startled  away  by 
our  approach,  also  a  crane  feeding  in  a  cluster  of  trees,  or  a 
bold  fish-hawk  pursuing  his  prey,  while  the  senses  were 
almost  oppressed  by  the  fragrance  of  blowing  flowers,  which 
met  the  eye  on  every  side. 

By  multiplying  the  above  two  scenes  almost  indefinitely, 
and  tinging  them  with  the  ever  varying  hues  and  features  of 
the  pleasant  summer  time,  and  by  fancying  on  either  bank 
of  the  river  an  occasional  thriving  village,  "like  sunshine 
in  a  shady  place,"  you  will  have  a  very  good  idea  of  the 
Mississippi  scenery  between  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  and 
the  Lower  Rapids.  These  are  twelve  miles  long,  and  the 
first  on  the  river  which  impede  its  navigation.  The  water, 
during  the  dry  season  varies  from  two  to  four  feet  in  depth 
on  these  rapids,  but  the  channel  is  so  very  crooked  that  even 


24  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


the  smaller  steamers  with  difficulty  find  a  passage.     Below 
this  point  the  eye  of  the  traveller  is  occasionally  delighted 
by  a  fine  prairie  landscape,  but  the  following  picture  may  be 
looked  upon  as  a  pretty  accurate  epitome  of  the  scenery  be- 
tween Nauvoo  at  the  head  of  the  Rapids,  and  Rock  Island. 
It  was  the  noontide  hour  of  one  of  those  heavenly  days  which 
occasionally  make  very  happy  the  universal  human  world. 
My  own  heart,  which  had  been  darkened  by  the  shadows  of 
human  life,  was  made  joyous  by  its  dazzling  loveliness.  The 
sunshine  slept  upon  the  quiet  landscape,  as  sweetly  as  if  the 
world  had  never  known  a  deed  of  sin,  while  every  object 
which  composed  the  scene  performed  its  secret  ministry  of 
good.     It  was  just  such  a  day  as  William  Herbert  has  made 
immortal  in  the  following  words : 

"  Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright, 
The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky  ; 
The  dew  will  weep  thy  fall  to-night, 
For  thou  must  die." 

At  my  feet  flowed  the  tranquil  waters  of  the  superb  river, 
from  whose  very  margin  receded  a  perfectly  level  prairie, 
which  soon  lost  itself,  in  a  rolling  country,  whose  motionless 
billows  receded  to  the  far  horizon.  On  my  extreme  left  lay 
a  range  of  wood-crowned  and  dreary  looking  hills,  and  on 
my  right  a  solitary  bluff  which  was  as  smooth  on  every  side 
as  the  most  highly  cultivated  lawn.  The  atmosphere  was 
soft  and  of  a  rosy  hue,  and  made  me  long  for  the  wings  of  a 
dove  that  I  might  float  away  upon  its  bosom  in  a  dream  of 
bliss.  Flowers  of  loveliest  hue  and  sweetest  fragrance  were 
on  every  side  ;  and  the  only  sound  that  fell  upon  my  ear 
was  a  hum  of  insect  wings.  On  the  bluffs  already  men- 
tioned a  large  herd  of  deer  were  quietly  cropping  their  food ; 
and  in  the  air  high  towards  the  zenith  was  floating  in  his 
pride  of  freedom,  an  immense  eagle,  the"  seeming  monarch 
of  the  western  world. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  25 

Rock  Island,  whence  I  date  this  paper,  and  which  lies  in 
the  river  midway  between  the  villages  of  Davenport  and 
Rock  Island,  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  points  I  have  yet 
seen  during  my  journey.  It  is  literally  speaking  a  rocky 
island,  and  is  surmounted  by  the  dilapidated  walls  of  an  an- 
cient fortress,  and  was,  in  former  days,  the  scene  of  many  a 
struggle  between  the  red  man  and  his  brotherly  oppressor. 
But  the  place  is  greatly  changed.  Where  once  the  gayly 
dressed  officer  quaifed  his  wine  cup  at  the  midnight  hour,  the 
lonely  shriek  of  the  owl  is  now  heard  even  until  the  break 
of  day  ;  and  the  rat,  the  toad,  and  the  spider  have  usurped 
the  place  where  once  the  soldier  hummed  his  thoughtless 
song,  or  was  heard  the  roar  of  his  artillery. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Rock  Island,  July,  1846. 

Starved  Rock  is  the  unpoetical  name  of  a  singular  spot 
on  the  Illinois  river  about  sixty  miles  east  of  this  place,  and 
eight  miles  south  of  Ottawa.  It  is  a  rocky  bluff,  rising  from 
the  margin  of  the  stream  to  the  height  of  more  than  a  hun- 
dred feet,  and  is  only  separated  from  the  main  land  by  a 
narrow  chasm.  Its  length  might  probably  measure  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet.  Its  sides  are  perpendicular,  and 
there  is  only  one  point  where  it  can  be  ascended,  and  that  is 
by  a  narrow  stair-like  path.  It  is  covered  with  many  a  cone- 
like evergreen,  and,  in  summer,  encircled  by  luxuriant  grape 
and  ivy  vines,  and  clusters  of  richly  colored  flowers.  It  is 
undoubtedly  the  most  conspicuous  and  beautiful  pictorial 
feature  of  the  sluggish  and  lonely  Illinois,  and  is  associated 
with  the  final  extinction  of  the  Illinois  tribe  of  Indians.  The 
legend,  which  I  listened  to  from  the  lips  of  a  venerable  In- 
dian trader,  is  as  follows. 

Many  years  ago,  the  whole  region  lying  between  Lake 
Michigan  and  the  Mississippi  was  the  home  and  dominion  of 
the  Illinois  Indians.  For  them  alone  did  the  buffalo  and 
antelope  range  over  its  broad  prairies ;  for  them  did  the 
finest  of  rivers  roll  their  waters  into  the  lap  of  Mexico,  and 
bear  upon  their  bosoms  the  birchen  canoe,  as  they  sought  to 
capture  the  wild  water  fowl ;  and  for  them  alone  did  the 
dense  forests,  crowding  upon  these  streams,  shelter  their  un- 
numbered denizens. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  27 


In  every  direction  might  be  seen  the  smoke  of  Indian 
wigwams  curling  upwards  to  mingle  with  the  sunset  clouds, 
which  told  them  tales  of  the  spirit  land. 

Years  passed  on,  and  they  continued  to  be  at  ease  in 
their  possessions.  But  the  white  man  from  the  far  east, 
with  the  miseries  which  have  ever  accompanied  him  in  his 
march  of  usurpation,  began  to  wander  into  the  wilderness, 
and  trouble  to  the  poor  red  man  was  the  inevitable  conse- 
quence. The  baneful  "  fire  water,"  which  was  the  gift  of 
civilization,  created  dissensions  among  the  savage  tribes, 
until  in  process  of  time,  and  on  account  of  purely  imaginary 
evils,  the  Pottowattomies  from  Michigan  determined  to  make 
war  upon  the  Indians  of  Illinois.  Fortune,  or  rather  destiny, 
smiled  upon  the  oppressors,  and  the  identical  rock  in  ques- 
tion was  the  spot  that  witnessed  the  extinction  of  an  abo- 
riginal race. 

It  was  the  close  of  a  Ions:  siege  of  cruel  warfare,  and  the 
afternoon  of  a  day  in  the  delightful  Indian  summer.  The 
sunshine  threw  a  mellow  haze  upon  the  prairies,  and  tinged 
the  multitudinous  flowers  with  deepest  gold ;  while,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  forest  islands,  the  doe  and  her  fawn  reposed  in 
perfect  quietness,  lulled  into  a  temporary  slumber  by  the 
hum  of  the  grasshopper  and  wild  bee.  The  wilderness 
world  wore  the  aspect  of  a  perfect  sabbath.  But  now,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  delightful  solitude  was  broken 
by  the  shrill  whoop  and  dreadful  struggle  of  bloody  conflict 
upon  the  prairies  and  in  the  woods.  All  over  the  country 
were  seen  the  dead  bodies  of  the  ill-fated  Illinois,  when  it 
was  ordered  by  Providence  that  the  concluding  skirmish 
between  the  hostile  parties  should  take  place  in  the  vicinity 
of  Starved  Rock. 

The  Pottowattomies  numbered  near  three  hundred  war. 
riors,  while  the  Illinois  tribe  was  reduced  to  about  one  hun- 
dred, who  were  mostly  aged  chiefs  and  youthful  heroes — 


28  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

the  more  desperate  fighters  having  already  perished,  and  the 
women  and  children  of  the  tribe  having  already  been  mas- 
sacred and  consumed  in  their  wigwams.  The  battle  was 
most  desperate  between  the  unequal  parties. 

The  Illinois  were  about  to  give  up  all  for  lost,  when,  in 
their  frenzy,  they  gave  a  defying  shout,  and  retreated  to  the 
rocky  bluff.  From  this,  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  keep  back 
their  enemies,  but  alas !  from  that  moment  they  were  to 
endure  unthought-of  suffering,  to  the  delight  of  their  baffled, 
yet  victorious  enemies. 

And  now  to  describe  in  words  the  scene  that  followed 
and  was  prolonged  for  several  days,  were  utterly  impossible. 
Those  stout-hearted  Indians,  in  whom  a  nation  was  about  to 
become  extinct,  chose  to  die  upon  their  strange  fortress,  by 
starvation  and  thirst,  rather  than  surrender  themselves  to  the 
scalping-knife  of  their  exterminators.  And,  with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, this  was  the  manner  in  which  they  did  perish. 
Now  and  then,  indeed,  a  desperate  man  would  lower  him- 
self, hoping  thereby  to  escape,  but  a  tomahawk  would  cleave 
his  brain  before  he  touched  the  ground  or  water. 

Day  followed  day,  and  those  helpless  captives  sat  in 
silence,  and  gazed  imploringly  upon  their  broad  beautiful 
lands,  while  hunger  was  gnawing  into  their  very  vitals. 
Night  followed  night,  and  they  looked  upon  the  silent  stars, 
and  beyond,  to  the  home  of  the  Great  Spirit,  but  they  mur- 
mured not  at  his  decree.  And  if  they  slept,  in  their  dreams 
they  once  more  played  with  their  little  children,  or  held  con- 
verse with  their  wives,  and  roamed  the  woods  and  prairies 
in  perfect  freedom.  When  morning  dawned  it  was  but  the 
harbinger  of  another  day  of  agony ;  but  when  the  evening 
hour  came,  a  smile  would  sometimes  brighten  up  a  haggard 
countenance,  for  the  poor,  unhappy  soul,  through  the  eye  of 
an  obscure  faith,  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  spirit  land. 
Day  followed  day,  and  the  last  lingering  hope  was  utterly 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  29 


abandoned.  Their  destiny  was  scaled,  and  no  change  for 
good  could  possibly  take  place,  for  the  human  blood-hounds 
who  watched  their  prey,  were  utterly  without  mercy.  The 
feeble,  white-haired  chief  crept  into  a  thicket  and  there 
breathed  his  last.  The  recently  strong-bodied  warrior,  utter- 
ing a  protracted  but  feeble  yell  of  exultation,  hurled  his  toma- 
hawk upon  some  fiend  below,  and  then  yielded  himself  up  to 
the  pains  of  his  condition.  The  lithe  form  of  the  soft-eyed 
youth  parted  with  its  strength,  and  was  compelled  to  totter, 
fall  upon  the  earth  and  die.  Ten  weary,  weary  days  passed 
on,  and  the  strongest  man  and  last  of  his  race  was  numbered 
with  the  dead  : — and  a  glorious  banquet  was  presented  to  tho 
eagle  and  the  raven. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Rock  Island,  July,  1846. 

On  my  way  up  the  Mississippi,  I  tarried  a  few  hours  at 
the  far-famed  city  of  Nauvoo :  and  when  I  resumed  my 
course,  I  felt  like  one  just  awakened  from  an  incomprehen- 
sible dream.  Surely,  surely  Fanaticism  is  a  most  foul  fiend, 
and  we  ought  to  rejoice  with  exceeding  joy  that  He  who 
ruleth  the  armies  of  heaven,  is  yet  the  protector  of  earth, 
and  its  inhabitants,  and  will  not  leave  all  mankind  alone  to 
the  mercy  of  their  idols. 

The  Mormon  City  occupies  an  elevated  position,  and,  as 
approached  from  the  south,  appears  capable  of  containing  a 
hundred  thousand  souls.  But  its  gloomy  streets  bring  a  most 
melancholy  disappointment.  Where  lately  resided  no  less 
than  twenty-five  thousand  people,  there  are  not  to  be  seen 
more  than  about  five  hundred  ;  and  these,  in  mind,  body  and 
purse,  seem  to  be  perfectly  wretched.  In  a  walk  of  about 
ten  minutes,  I  counted  several  hundred  chimneys,  which 
were  all  at  least  that  number  of  families  had  left  behind 
them,  as  memorials  of  their  folly,  and  the  wickedness  of 
their  persecutors.  When  this  city  was  in  its  glory,  every 
dwelling  was  surrounded  with  a  garden,  so  that  the  corpora- 
tion limits  were  uncommonly  extensive  ;  but  now  all  the 
fences  are  in  ruin,  and  the  lately  crowded  streets  actually 
rank  with  vegetation.  Of  the  houses  left  standing,  not  more 
than  one  out  of  every  ten  is  occupied,  excepting  by  the 
spider  and  the  toad.     Hardly  a  window   retained  a  whole 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  31 


pane  of  glass,  and  the  doors  were  broken,  and  open,  and 
hingelcss.  Not  a  single  laughing  voice  did  I  hear  in  the 
whole  place,  and  the  lines  of  suffering  and  care  seemed  to  be 
imprinted  on  the  faces  of  the  very  children  who  met  me  in 
the  way.  I  saw  not  a  single  one  of  those  numerous  domestic 
animals,  which  add  so  much  to  the  comforts  of  human  life  ; 
and  I  heard  not  a  single  song  even  from  the  robin  and  the 
wren,  which  are  always  so  sure  to  build  their  nests  about  the 
habitations  of  man.  Aye,  the  very  sunshine,  and  the  pleasant 
passing  breeze,  seemed  both  to  speak  of  sin,  sorrow,  and  utter 
desolation. 

Yet,  in  the   centre  of   this  scene  of   ruins,   stands  the 
Temple  of  Nauvoo,  which  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  finest 
buildings  in  this  country.     It  is  built  of  limestone,  quarried 
within  the  limits  of  the  city,  in  the  bed  of  a  dry  stream,  and 
thearchitect,  named  Weeks,  and  every  individual  who  labored 
upon  the  building  were  Mormons.     It  is  one  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  feet  in  length,  eighty  feet  wide,  and  from  the 
ground  to  the  extreme  summit  it  measures  two  hundred  and 
ninety-two  feet.     It  is  principally  after  the  Roman  style  of 
architecture,  somewhat  intermixed  with  Grecian  and  Egyp- 
tian.    It  has  a  portico,  with  three  Roman    archways.     It  is 
surrounded  with   pilasters ;  at   the  base  of  each  is  carved  a 
new  moon,  inverted,  while  the  capital  of  each   is  formed  of 
an  uncouth  head,  supported  by  two  hands  holding  a  trumpet. 
Directly  under  the  tower  in  front  is  this  inscription,  in  golden 
letters  :     "  The  House  of  the  Lord.     Built  by  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Latter  Day  Sahits.     Commenced  April  6th, 
1841.     Holiness  to  the  Lord."     In  the  basement  room,  which 
is  paved  with  brick,  and  converges  to  the  centre,  is  a  Bap- 
tismal Font,  supported   by  twelve  oxen,   large   as   life,  the 
whole  executed  in  solid  stone.      Two  stairways  lead    into 
it,   from  opposite  directions,   while    on  either   side  are   two 
rooms  for  the  recording  clerks,  and,  all  around,  no  less  than 


32  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

twelve  preparation  rooms  besides.  On  the  first  floor  are 
three  pulpits,  and  a  place  for  the  choir ;  and  on  either  side 
eight  Roman  windows.  Over  the  prophet's  pulpit,  or  throne, 
is  this  inscription  :  "  The  Lord  has  beheld  our  sacrifice  : 
come  after  us."  Between  the  first  and  second  floors  are  two 
long  rooms,  appropriated  to  the  patriarchs,  which  are  lighted 
with  eight  circular  windows  each.  The  room  of  the  second 
floor,  in  every  particular,  is  precisely  like  that  of  the  first. 
Around  the  hall  of  a  spacious  attic  are  twelve  small  rooms, 
with  circular  windows  and  a  massive  lock  on  each  door.  At 
the  two  front  corners  of  the  edifice  are  two  winding  stairways, 
which  meet  at  the  base  of  the  tower  and  lead  to  the  summit, — 
while  the  roof  of  the  main  building  is  arranged  for  a  place  of 
promenade  ;  and  the  walls  of  the  noble  edifice  vary  from 
four  to  six  feet  in  thickness. 

Estimating  the  manual  labor  at  the  usual  prices  of  the 
day,  it  is  said  that  the  cost  of  this  Temple  was  about 
$800,000.  The  owners  now  offer  to  sell  it  for  $200,000,  but 
it  will  be  a  long  time,  I  fancy,  before  a  purchaser  is  found. 

The  Mormon,  who  took  me  over  the  Temple,  and  gave 
me  the  above  information,  was  nearly  broken  hearted.  Like 
the  majority  of  his  brethren,  remaining  in  the  city,  he  was 
without  money,  and  without  friends,  and  yet,  it  was  to  be  his 
destiny,  in  a  few  days,  to  push  his  way  into  the  wilderness, 
with  a  large  family  depending  upon  him  for  support.  It  was 
in  a  most  melancholy  tone,  indeed,  that  he  spoke  to  me  the 
following  words  :  "  Mine,  sir,  is  a  hard,  hard  lot.  What  if 
my  religion  is  a  false  one,  if  I  am  sincere,  is  it  not  cruel,  in 
the  extreme,  for  those,  who  call  themselves  the  only  true 
church,  to  oppress  me  and  my  people  as  they  have  done  ? 
My  property  has  been  stolen  from  me,  and  my  dwelling  been 
consumed  ;  and  now,  while  my  family  is  dependent  upon  a 
more  fortunate  brother  for  support,  my  little  children  cannot 
go  into  the  streets  without  being  pelted  with  stones,  and  my 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  33 


daughters  cannot  go  to  the  well  after  a  pail  of  water,  with- 
out  being  insulted  by  the  young  and  noble  among  our  perse- 
cutors. I  do  not  deserve  this  treatment.  I  am  not  a  scoun- 
drel or  a  foreigner  ; — far,  far  from  the  truth  is  this  supposi- 
tion. My  grandfather,  sir,  was  killed  at  the  battle  of 
Yorktown,  as  an  officer  of  the  glorious  Revolution  ;  my  own 
father,  too,  was  also  an  American  army  officer  during  the 
last  war  ;  and  all  my  kindred  have  ever  been  faithful  to  the 
upright  laws  of  the  government.  Knowing,  therefore,  these 
things  to  be  true,  and  knowing,  too,  that  I  am  an  honest  man, 
it  is  very  hard  to  be  treated  by  my  fellow  countrymen  as  a 
1 vagabond.'  0,1  love  this  sacred  Temple,  dearly,  and  it 
makes  me  weep  to  think  that  I  must  so  soon  leave  it  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  Christian  world." 

Thus  far  had  this  poor  man  proceeded,  when  his  utter- 
ance was  actually  choked  with  tears, — and  I  was  glad  of  it, 
for  my  own  heart  was  affected  by  his  piteous  tale.  I  gave 
him  a  dollar  for  his  trouble,  when  he  was  called  to  attend  a 
new  arrival  of  visitors,  and  I  was  left  alone  in  the  belfry  of 
the  Temple. 

Then  it  was  that  I  had  an  opportunity  to  muse  upon  the 
superb  panorama  which  met   my  gaze  upon  every  side.     I 
was  in  a  truly  splendid  temple, — that  temple  in  the  centre  of 
a  desolate  city, — and  that  city  in  the  centre  of  an  apparently 
boundless  wilderness.     To  the  east  lay  in  perfect  beauty  the 
grand  Prairie  of  Illinois,  reaching  to  the  waters  of  Michigan  ; 
to  the  north  and  south  faded  away  the  winding  Mississippi  ; 
and  on  the  west,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  spread  out 
a  perfect  sea  of  forest  land,  entering  which,  I  could  just  dis- 
tinguish a  caravan  of  exiled  Mormons,  on  their  line  of  march 
to  Oregon  and  California.     As  before  remarked,  when  T  went 
forth  from  out  the  massy  porches  of  the  Mormon  Temple,  to 
journey  deeper  into  the  wilderness,  I  felt  like  one  awakened 
from  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Prairie  Du  Chiex,  July,  184G. 

Just  above  Rock  Island  are  the  Upper  Rapids  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, which  extend  some  fifteen  miles  and  have  a  fall  of 
twenty-seven  feet.  They  made  a  deep  impression  upon  my 
mind,  because  it  was  there  that  our  steamboat  swung  upon  a 
rock  for  some  thirty  hours,  and  where,  soon  as  we  were 
clear,  we  ran  into  a  downward-bound  steamer,  and  settled 
her  to  the  bottom  ; — but  fortunately  no  lives  were  lost.  I 
noticed  on  these  and  the  Lower  Rapids  a  certain  fly  or  miller, 
which  is  found  at  the  evening  hour  flying  about  in  immense 
numbers.  They  are  called  the  Mormon  fly,  and  I  was  told 
were  found  on  these  rapids  alone,  and  that  wherever  they 
alight,  there  they  remain,  if  not  disturbed,  until  they  die. 

Soon  after  we  had  passed  these  rapids  I  enjoyed  another 
prairie  scene,  which  was  even  more  superb  than  the  one  I 
have  already  attempted  to  describe.  On  this  occasion  the 
bank  in  the  foreground  was  covered  with  grass  that  must 
have  been  at  least  six  feet  high,  and  the  only  living  creatures 
that  I  saw  were  a  beautiful  doe  and  her  fawn — quenching 
their  thirst  in  the  limpid  stream. 

The  Illinois  side  of  the  Mississippi,  between  the  Upper 
Rapids  and  the  Lefevre  river  which  leads  you  to  Galena,  is 
characterized  by  an  extensive  range  of  fantastic  bluffs  and 
isolated  rocks.  Covered  as  they  are  with  vines  and  mosses, 
they  present  the  appearance  of  ancient  ruins,  and  it  requires 
no  great  stretch  of  the  imagination  to  discover  towers  and 
turrets  of  ancient  castles,  fortress  walls  that  have  been  partly 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  35 


battered  down,  and  solitary  pillars  rising  ID  gloomy  grandeur, 
as  if  to  preach  a  salutary  lesson  to  the  passing  traveller,  upon 
the  ravages  of  time.  This  same  kind  of  singular  scenery 
ornaments  the  river  in  the  \  ieinity  of  Dubuque  (which  like 
Galena  is  some  distance  from  the  Mississippi),  and  extends 
as  far  as  Prairie  Du  Chien,  only,  as  you  ascend,  the  bluiTs 
become  more  lofty  and  imposing.  On  the  summit  of  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  these  bluffs  is  a  small  cabin  and  a 
lars^e  wooden  cross,  where  the  French  trader  and  miner  Du- 
buque was  buried — according  to  his  own  request,  and  in  a 
coffin  made  of  solid  lead. 

Prairie  Du  Chien  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing   and    beautiful  places   on  the  Mississippi.     It  takes  its 
name  from  the  fact  that  it  was  once  the  camping  place  of  a 
Fox  Indian  Chief,  whose  name  was — The  Dog.     The  prairie 
extends  along  the  river  for  about  ten  miles;  on  the  one  hand 
it  slopes  gently  down  to  the  river,  and  on  the  other  is  bounded 
by  a  range  of  bluffs,  which  are  some  five  hundred  feet  high, 
and  exceedingly  picturesque.     The  houses  that  shelter  the 
inhabitants  of  this  place  are  planted  without  any  order,  but 
as  it  is  one  of  our  more  ancient  trading  posts,  there  is  a  rude 
and  romantic  appearance  about  them  which  is  quite  refresh- 
ing  Here,  in  the  form  of  an  isolated  square,  lie  the  barracks 
of  Fort  Crawford,  where  the  discordant  sounds  of  the  drum 
and  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  fife  are  often  heard  ;  while  in 
another  part  of  the  plain  are  the  ruins  of  an  old  fortress  al- 
most level  with  the  ground.     Now  a  lonely  Catholic  church 
is  seen  holding  forth  its  gilded  cross  ;  and  now,  the  store  of 
the  Indian  trader  is  surrounded  with  a  herd  of  Winnebagoe 
Indians,  who  resort  here  for  the  purposes  of  trade.     The  ter- 
ritory of  this  tribe  lies  directly  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Mississippi,  where  the  eye  is   again  gratified  by  a  range  of 
wood-covered  blutfs,  rising  directly  from  the   margin  of  the 
stream.     From  the  regular  lines  of  naked  strata  which  ex- 


36  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

tend  along  the  sides  of  all  the  bluffs  in  this  vicinity,  it  is  ev- 
ident that  the  spot  called  Prairie  Du  Chien  was  formerly  the 
bed  of  the  Mississippi,  but  how  many  centuries  ago  this  was 
the  case,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine.  And  yet  if  this  con- 
clusion is  correct,  and  we  remember  that  there  are  hundreds 
of  similar  prairies  as  well  as  bottom  lands  on  the  Mississippi, 
we  must  also  conclude  that  this  stream  is  now  a  mere  rivu- 
let to  what  it  was  in  the  times  of  old. 

On  the  bluffs,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Prairie  Du 
Chien,  are  some  of  the  most  remarkable  of  those  strange 
memorials  of  a  forgotten  race  which  have  yet  been  disco- 
vered in  our  country.  Like  those  of  Ohio,  Kentucky,  Mis- 
souri, and  Illinois,  those  of  the  more  northern  wilderness 
will  long  continue  to  puzzle  the  antiquarian,  and  furnish 
food  for  the  poet  and  the  moralist.  Here  the  mounds, 
trenches,  and  parapets  are  found  connected  in  one  series  of 
works,  which  seem  to  have  been  used  for  military  purposes. 
Deep  under  the  surface  of  the  ground,  tomahawks  of  brass 
(differing  materially  from  those  now  in  use)  have  been 
found  ;  and  stories  are  told  of  gigantic  skeletons  having 
been  disinterred  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  only  things 
which  throw  any  light  upon  these  singular  ruins,  are  the 
uncouth  and  unsatisfactory  legends  of  the  Indians,  who  tell 
us  that  a  race  of  white  giants  were  once  the  possessors  of 
the  soil  which  they  have  inherited  from  their  warlike  and 
victorious  ancestors.  These  vestiges  of  an  extinct  race, 
"  lie  in  their  sunless  chambers  like  the  spirits  of  the  past, 
as  if  in  mockery  of  an  age  which  arrogates  to  itself  the 
term  of  an  age  of  light.  They  will  probably  remain  for 
ever  a  signal  rebuke  upon  the  learning  of  modern  times,  as- 
suming, as  it  does,  the  pride  of  universal  knowledge." 

At  this  place  I  met  and  had  a  long  conversation  with  an 
Indian  trader,  who  had  lived  in  the  wilderness  for  more 
than  half  a  century.     He  gave  me  an  interesting  account 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  37 

of  the  battle  of  Bad  Axe,  at  which  he  was  present.  This 
spot  lies  some  distance  below  Prairie  Du  Chien,  and  re- 
ceived its  name  from  an  Indian,  who  was  killed  and  buried 
there  at  an  early  day.  The  trader  told  me  that  the  word 
battle  was  not  the  right  one  to  use  in  speaking  of  that  con- 
clusion of  the  Black  Hawk  War  ; — it  was  a  cruel  massacre. 
The  poor  Indians  were  crossing  the  river  (as  they  had  been 
for  days)  with  all  possible  despatch,  when  they  were  over- 
taken by  a  force  of  three  thousand  of  our  well-armed  soldiers. 
The  surprise  caused  great  consternation  among  the  Indians ; 
all  who  could,  made  their  escape,  and  the  leader  of  this 
crowd  was  Black  Hawk  himself.  Six  of  our  people  alone 
were  killed  :  and  nine-tenths  of  the  two  hundred  red-skins 
slain,  were  women  and  children.  The  famished  condition  of 
the  enemy  on  that  occasion  must  have  been  melancholy 
indeed.  My  old  friend  told  me,  lhat  among  the  scenes 
which  he  witnessed  on  the  ground  after  this  massacre,  was 
a  dead  child,  with  the  meatless  bone  of  a  young  colt's  leg, 
grasped  firmly  in  its  little  hand  ; — it  had  died  of  starvation 
while  clinging  to  the  body  of  its  murdered  mother.  And 
this  is  a  portion  of  the  payment  that  our  Government  has 
ever  been  in  the  habit  of  awarding  to  the  poor  Indian,  for  the 
splendid  territories  which  were  his  only  inheritance. 

The  Winnebagoes  are  about  the  only  Indians  who  visit 
Prairie  Du  Chien  for  purposes  of  traffic  ;  formerly  however, 
it  was  the  congregating  place  for  the  nations  which  lived  upon 
the  Fox  and  Wisconsin  rivers,  as  well  as  those  upon  the  head 
waters  of  the  Mississippi.  The  Winnebagoes  were  once 
almost  as  numerous  as  the  leaves  upon  the  trees,  but  the  na- 
tion has  been  so  far  reduced  that  only  about  three  thousand 
now  remain.  And  a  more  unhappy  people  do  not  exist  upon 
the 'continent, — warriors,  women  and  children  are  all  appar- 
ently broken  hearted.  In  olden  times  they  were  a  race  of 
brave  men  and  beautiful  women,  but  now  they  prowl  among 

3 


38  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


their  native  hills  a  brotherhood  of  vagabonds,  exceedingly 
poor  and  universally  despised.  And  yet  the  white  man  who 
was  the  author  of  all  this  misery  counts  his  gold,  and  con- 
gratulates himself  with  the  idea  that  he  is  a  Christian. 

But  I  am  wandering  from  what  J  was  about  to  record, 
viz.,  the  history  of  a  visit  to  the  lodge  of  Winneshic,  head 
chief  of  the  Winnebagoes.  The  business  which  had  brought 
the  old  man  to  the  Prairie,  was,  to  exchange  the  skin  of  a 
recently  captured  bear,  for  a  small  bag  of  flour  and  some  am- 
munition. I  had  made  him  a  present  of  tobacco,  (which  is 
about  the  only  currency  that  a  traveller  can  make  use  of  in 
the  wilderness,)  and  when  it  was  intimated  to  him  that  I  should 
be  pleased  to  visit  his  lodge,  he  immediately  pressed  me  to 
become  his  guest,  which  invitation  was  duly  accepted.  He 
had  come  to  the  Prairie  alone,  in  a  small  wooden  canoe,  in 
which,  at  the  appointed  hour,  I  seated  myself  and  away  we 
started  up  the  Mississippi.  With  the  language  of  my  old 
friend  I  was  partially  acquainted,  and  this,  with  my  know- 
ledge of  the  Indian  character,  enabled  me  to  carry  on  a  re- 
spectable conversation.  The  old  man  told  me  that  I  must 
keep  very  quiet  in  my  seat,  as  he  thought  me  a  novice  in  canoe 
navigation  ;  whereupon  I  seized  a  paddle  and  feathered  it  a 
few  moments  in  a  style  worthy  of  the  chief  himself,  which 
not  only  surprised,  but  actually  delighted  him.  After  a  quiet 
sail  of  about  an  hour,  during  which  time  I  enjoyed  some  of 
the  finest  scenery  in  the  world,  and  one  of  the  balmiest  sun- 
sets I  ever  beheld,  the  canoe  suddenly  turned  into  the  mouth 
of  a  little  creek,  and  I  was  landed  at  the  threshold  of  my 
companion's  lodge.  It  was  made  of  buffalo  skins  and  shaped 
like  a  sugar  loaf.  It  stood  upon  a  plot  of  level  ground,  in 
the  centre  of  a  brotherhood  of  elms,  and  at  the  foot  of  an 
abrupt  hill.  It  was  so  far  elevated  as  to  command  a  south- 
ern view  of  the  Mississippi,  extending  at  least  a  dozen  miles, 
— the  river  meanwhile   making   two  or  three    magnificent 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  39 

swoops  as  if  in  honor  of  the  beautiful   islands  which   rested 
like  jowels  on  its  peaceful  bosom. 

The  extent  of  Winneshic's  family  I  was  unable  to  learn, 
but  the  only  individuals  whom  I  saw  at  his  lodge  were  his 
wife,  a  couple  of  fine  looking  boys  and  a  little  girl.  They 
were  all  glad  to  see  me,  and  treated  me  with  marked  polite- 
ness. I  was  invited  to  a  seat  upon  the  handsomest  mat  in  the 
lodge,  and  while  the  chief  sat  by  my  side  smoking  his  pipe 
and  entertaining  me  with  the  strange  wild  stories  of  his  life, 
the  wife  busied  herself  in  finishing  a  pair  of  moccasons,  while 
the  children  were  cooking  a  wilderness  supper.  That  sup- 
per consisted  of  boiled  fish,  a  roasted  duck,  and  a  piece  of 
dough  about  half  baked,  all  of  which  we  ate  with  our  fingers, 
and  without  a  particle  of  salt. 

After  the  repast  was  ended  I  thought  it  my  turn  to  enter- 
tain my  friends,  and  for  this  purpose  had  brought  my  portfo- 
lio of  sketches,  which  were  carefully  examined  by  the  light 
of  a  blazing  fire.  Some  of  the  scenes  1  had  sketched  were 
recognized  by  the  whole  family,  and  caused  them  to  look  with 
perfect  wonder  upon  my  supposed  talent  and  upon  the  lead 
pencil  which  I  also  exhibited  to  them.  Their  astonishment 
amused  me  exceedingly,  and  I  greatly  increased  it  by  sketch- 
ing a  profile  of  the  chief  and  his  better-half.  It  so  happened 
that  I  was  successful  in  my  attempt,  and  when  I  presented 
the  sketches  to  the  individuals  represented,  they  ransacked 
every  nook  and  corner  of  their  lodge  for  something  to  give 
me  in  return.  The  chief  handed  me  a  beautiful  pipe  from  the 
red  stone  quarry,  while  the  wife  presented  me  with  the  most 
fantastic  pair  of  moccasons  in  her  possession  ;  the  little  girl 
gave  me  a  cake  of  maple  sugar,  and  one  of  the  boys  pre- 
sented me  with  an  eagle's  plume,  and  the  other  with  a  bow 
and  arrows. 

It  was  near  midnight  before  I  was  suffered  to  lie  down  to 
rest,  but  before  taking  this  step  I  emerged  from  the  wigwam 


40  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


for  the  purpose  of  looking  upon  the  Mississippi  at  that  hour. 
And  a  lovely  sight  indeed  was  it  my  privilege  to  behold. 
The  moon  was  sweeping  across  her  cloudless  field  of  blue, 
a  beautiful  but  impatient  queen,  while  an  occasional  star 
gazed  upward  from  its  watchtower,  as  if  in  admiration  of 
the  heaven-born  spectacle.  All  the  hills  and  islands  were 
in  deep  shadow,  and  before  me,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
lay  exposed  the  windings  of  the  stream,  which  was  brighter 
than  a  shield  of  burnished  steel.  So  very  still  was  the  "air 
around,  that  you  might  now  hear  the  shrill  note  of  some 
frightened  deer  far  away  upon  the  hillside,  and  now  the 
scream  of  a  lonely  loon,  the  splashing  of  a  leaping  fish,  and 
the  rippling  of  the  rivulet  at  my  feet,  which  glided  into  the 
bosom  of  its  parent  stream  through  a  cluster  of  tall  reeds. 
With  this  picture  and  its  manifold  associations  deeply  fixed 
in  my  mind,  I  re-entered  the  lodge,  threw  myself  upon  a 
mat  in  the  midst  of  my  Indian   friends,  and  was  soon  in  a 

deep  sleep. 

I  arose,  on  the  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  and 
after  partaking  of  a  breakfast  of  boiled  fish,  I  entered,  with 
the  chief,  into  his  canoe,  and  in  forty  minutes  was  at  my 
quarters  in  Prairie  Du  Chien. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Prairie  Dv  Chikn,  July,  184C. 

The  lead  region  of  the  Mississippi  occupies  not  far  from 
one  hundred  square  miles.  The  two  principal  towns  are 
Galena  and  Dubuque,  which  are  both  handsome  and  flour- 
ishing. The  original  possessors  of  this  land  were  the  Sac 
Fox  Indians,  who  used  to  sell  to  the  white  settlers  on  the 
frontier  the  ore  which  they  often  found  upon  the  surface  of 
their  soil.  The  first  white  man  who  went  into  the  mining 
business,  (which  was  on  a  small  scale,)  was  Dubuque.  He 
was  supposed  to  possess  a  cure  for  the  bite  of  the  rattlesnake. 
He  became  a  great  favorite  with  the  Indians,  and  for  a  long 
time  was  the  only  man,  not  of  their  blood,  whom  they  would 
suffer  to  live  upon  their  soil.  After  his  death,  as  already 
mentioned,  they  placed  him  in  a  leaden  coffin  of  their  own 
manufacture,  and  buried  him  on  the  picturesque  bluff  which 
bears  his  name  ;  and  after  this,  they  destroyed  every  vestige 
of  his  property. 

In  process  of  time,  extravagant  mineral  stories  were  cir- 
culated throughout  the  country,  and  the  general  government 
purchased  the  Indian  El  Dorado  of  its  possessors.  The  first 
man  who  went  into  the  mining  business  at  Galena,  after  the 
country  had  become  our  own,  was  Col.  Richard  M.  John- 
son. Since  that  time,  thousands  of  people,  on  various  occa- 
sions, have  made  and  lost  money  in  this  peculiar  business, 
which,  from  its  very  nature,  is  in  reality  a  perfect  lot- 
tery.     Lead,  lead,  is  the  burden  of  every  body's  song,  and 


42  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

the  quantities  weekly  shipped  to  St.  Louis  are  truly  immense. 
But  a  man  may  dig  until  doomsday  without  finding  a  lead, 
and  consequently  die  a  beggar — while  another,  in  a  few 
months  will  realize  a  fortune,  upon  which  he  is  too  apt  to 
retire,  and  then  squander  at  the  gaming  table,  so  that  you  also 
soon  find  him  an  idler,  and  in  want.  One  individual  I  have 
myself  known,  who  came  to  Galena  with  $500,  and  having 
labored  with  unceasing  industry  for  about  three  years,  and 
expended  his  little  fortune,  when  I  saw  him,  had  not  the 
means  of  purchasing  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  was  utterly  with- 
out employment.  Notwithstanding  the  liberal  mining  regu- 
lations of  the  government,  the  fates  were  against  him,  and 
he  was  compelled  to  give  up  his  mineral  dreams  in  despair. 
Another  individual,  whom  I  saw  at  Galena,  was  remarkably 
fortunate  in  his  operations.  A  little  more  than  a  year  ago 
he  commenced  digging  a  certain  hillside,  and  the  first  thing 
he  knew,  his  spade  struck  against  a  solid  mass  of  ore.  He 
was  encouraged,  and  proceeded  in  his  excavations,  and,  in 
the  course  of  a  single  year,  sold  a  sufficient  quantity  of  80 
per  cent,  ore  to  amount  to  the  sum  of  $23,000.  His  mine 
is  still  yielding  quite  abundantly,  and  as  it  is  probably  the 
best  in  this  region,  I  will  describe  it  in  a  few  words. 

After  descending  a  shaft  of  some  eighty  feet  in  depth, 
you  find  yourself  in  the  centre  of  an  immense  cave,  with 
chambers  leading  in  various  directions.  The  walls  and 
ceilings  are  mostly  of  pure  sand,  excepting  where  an  occa- 
sional solid  mass  of  native  lead  glistens  like  silver  or  gold, 
in  the  torch-light.  Square  blocks  of  the  ore,  weighing  from 
half  a  pound  to  one  hundred,  all  lie  as  accurately  dovetailed 
together,  as  if  placed  there  by  the  hands  of  a  master-mason. 
While  looking  upon  these  singular  masses,  I  could  hardly 
banish  the  thought  from  my  mind,  that  we  were  in  view  of 
treasures  which  had  been  hidden  here  in  those  days  when 
giants  inhabited  the  world.     When  my  curiosity  was  fully 


BUMMBB    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  43 


satisfied,   I  seized  the  rope,   and  with  a  palpitating  heart 
passed  upward  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth  into  the  pleas- 

:  sunshine. 

.Major  Campton  is  the  name  of  a  noted  character,  who 
once  resided  at  Galena.  He  is  a  powerfully  built  man,  who 
has  spent  his  whole  life  among  the  wildest  of  mortals,  and 
whose  various  occupations  have  caused  him  to  be  well 
known  from  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  to  the  shores  of  Lake 
Superior,  where  he  is  now  figuring  in  the  copper  line, 
having  made  and  lost  a  fortune  at  Galena.  A  natural  con- 
sequence  of  his  peculiar  experience  is,  that  he  perfectly 
understands  the  art  of  fighting  :  though  he  is  so  much  of  a 
gentleman,  that  he  could  not  be  called  a  bully. 

It  so  happened  that,  while  travelling  in  his  own  con- 
vance,  and  accompanied  by  his  wife,  during  a  pleasant 
day  last  summer  he  came  to  a  halt  on  the  margin  of  a  cer- 
tain river,  and  shouted  for  the  ferryman.  In  due  time  the 
indispensable  gentleman  was  ready,  and  while  inquiring  the 
news  of  the  day,  he  was  suddenly  smitten  by  a  new  thought, 
and  dropping  the  painter  of  the  old  scow,  looked  inquiringly 
into  the  Major's  face,  when  the  following  dialogue  ensued  : — 

"  Stranger,  is'nt   your  name   Major   Campton  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  is.  What  business  have  you  to  transact  with 

me?" 

"  You  are  the  very  man  I  have  long  been  wanting  to 
see,  for  you  must  know  that  I  am  the  Bully  of  the  north." 

"  Indeed  !  What  do  I  care  for  that  ?" 

"  Fve  hearn  tell  that  you  are  a  famous  fighter,  and  I 
should  like  to  have  you  give  me  a  thrashing  if  you  can." 

"  Why,  man,  I  have  nothing  against  you,  and  do  not 
want  to  make  a  fool  of  myself." 

"  But  you  shall,  though,  my  honey  ;  and  you  don't  cross 
this  ferry  until  it  is  decided  who  is  cock  of  the  walk." 

K  monstrance  on  the  part  of  the  Major  was  all  in  vain, 


44  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


the  ferryman  was  determined  to  fight.  The  Major  held  a 
short  consultation  with  his  lady,  who  was  of  course  in  great 
trouble,  but  taking  off  his  coat  and  unbuttoning  his  straps, 
he  stept  out  upon  a  grassy  spot  and  waited  for  the  ferryman's 
attack.  To  shorten  a  long  story,  the  fight  was  a  tedious 
one,  and  ended  in  the  total  defeat  of  the  challenger,  who  pre- 
sented in  himself,  after  the  struggle,  an  admirable  picture  of 
a  misspent  life.  He  had  strength  enough  left,  however,  to 
ferry  the  Champion  over  the  river ;  and  when  the  Major 
offered  to  pay  the  accustomed  fare,  the  latter  held  not  out 
his  hand,  but  making  a  rude  bow,  he  exclaimed  ; — "  Not  a 
dime,  sir  ;  good  afternoon." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Lake  Pkpin,  July,  1846. 

That    portion   of    the  Mississippi   which  extends   from 
Prairie  Du  Chien  to  Lake   Pepin  is  the  most  mountainous 
and  truly  beautiful  on  the  whole   river,  and  may  with  strict 
propriety  be   called   the   Alpine  Region.     The   river   here 
varies  from  a  quarter  to  a  full  mile  in  width,  and  on  either 
side  throughout  the  whole  distance  is  a  range  of  mountains 
which  sometimes  actually  bend  over  the   river,  and   some- 
times recede  into  the   interior  for  several  miles.     The  Mis- 
sissippi here  is  rather  sluggish,  but  perfectly  translucent,  and 
completely  filled  with  islands  which  are  covered  with  every 
variety   of  forest   trees  found   between   Kentucky   and  the 
Great   Lakes.     But  the  willow  and   the  elm   are  pre-emi- 
nently beautiful.     Well  do  I  remember  with  what   perfect 
delight  I  mused  upon  the  changing  landscape,  as  our  vessel 
glided  onward   and  onward  into  the  wild   and  silent  wilder- 
ness.    The  mountains  of  this  region   are  not  quite  so  lofty 
as  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson,  (to  which   they  have  been 
compared,)  but  they  are  far  more  picturesque,  fantastic,  and 
extensive.       At    one    moment   may  be  seen  a  cone-shaped 
mountain   rising  to  the   height  of  some  eight  hundred  feet, 
and    completely   covered,  to  the   extreme   summit,   with   a 
carpet  of  grass;  now  the  eye  will  linger  on  a  perpendicular 
bluff,  pictured  against  the   sky,  like  a  fortress  of  the  Mound 
Builders,    and    actually   frowning    upon    the    softly  flowing 
stream  that  laves  its  foliage-hidden  base  ;  now,  you  sail  in 

3* 


46  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


the  shadow  of  a  pillared  temple  that  seems  to  prop  the  sky  ; 
and  now,  along  a  continued  succession  of  peaks  and  points 
that  fade  away,  until  lost  in  the  rosy  atmosphere  of  evening. 
During  all  this  time,  your  vessel  will  be  gliding  around  and 
between  the  most  charming  of  green  islands,  some  of  them 
containing  a  solitary  grave,  others  a  little  brotherhood  of 
Indians,  lounging  upon  the  grassy  opening  before  their  wig- 
wams ;  while  some  happy  bird  will  favor  you  with  an  occa- 
sional song,  or  the  leap  of  a  trout  take  the  fancy  captive,  to 
revel  in  the  cool  chambers  of  the  stream.  Here  it  is,  too, 
that  the  famous  Island  Mountain  rises  to  the  height  of  five 
hundred  feet,  completely  covered  with  trees,  and  capped  by 
a  cluster  of  broken  rocks.  It  is  several  miles  long  and  about 
one  in  width,  and  is  the  largest  island  in  the  Mississippi. 
From  time  immemorial  it  has  been  celebrated  for  the  number 
of  its  rattlesnakes,  and  on  a  grassy  plot  at  its  base  stands  a 
cluster  of  graves,  where  repose  the  ashes  of  stranger  In- 
dians who  died  upon  the  island  from  wounds  inflicted  by 
these  reptiles. 

The  next  object  that  I  would  attempt  to  describe  on  my 
way  up  the  Mississippi,  is  Lake  Pepin.  It  lives  in  my 
memory  as  the  Horicon  of  the  wilderness.  It  is  an  extended 
portion  of  the  Mississippi, — twenty-three  miles  long,  and  from 
three  to  four  wide.  It  is  surrounded  with  hills,  which  abound 
in  almost  every  variety  of  game  ;  its  shores  are  gravelly 
and  covered  with  the  most  valuable  of  agates  and  cornelians  ; 
the  water  is  clear,  and  very  deep ;  and  it  yields  the  very 
best  of  fish  in  great  abundance.  My  first  view  of  Lake 
Pepin  (  I  wish  I  knew  how  it  came  by  that  name  !)  was  on 
one  of  the  most  charming  evenings  that  I  ever  witnessed. 
The  cloudless  sky  was  studded  with  stars,  and  the  moon  sailed 
upward  and  onward  with  an  uncommon  beauty,  as  if  proud 
of  the  wilderness  world  she  was  then  flooding  with  her  beams. 
For  hours  did  I  sit  musing  upon  the  eastern  shore,  near  the 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  47 

outlet,  whence  I  could  discern  no  less  than  sixteen  peaks  or 
blurts,  looming  in  perfect  solitude  against  the  horizon.  "  The 
holy  time  was  quiet  as  a  nun,  breathless  with  adoration." 
The  water  was  without  a  ripple,  and  reflected  in  its  pure 
bosom  every  star,  while  the  moon,  as  if  determined  that  it 
should  so  remain  for  ever,  spanned  it  with  a  bar  of  gold. 
The  only  sounds  that  trembled  in  the  air  were  the  hoot  of  an 
owl,  the  wail  of  a  loon,  and  a  hum  from  the  insect  world. 
I  looked  and  wondered,  until  the  night  was  far  spent,  and  the 
dew  upon  my  brow  was  heavy  and  cold. 

It  was  while  tarrying  at  this  lake  that  the  Captain  of  our 
steamer   was   honored  by  a  visit  from  Wabashaw,  the  head 
chief  of  the  Sioux  nation.     He  was  attended  by  several  of 
his  counsellors,  and  in  all  his  movements  had  the  bearing  of 
a  proud  prince.     He  is  a  young  man,  and  said  to  be  a  brave 
and  eminently  successful  warrior.     Our  captain  treated  him 
to  wine,  and  I  gave  him  a  present  of  tobacco.     The  Captain 
was  so  pleased  with  the  natural  curiosity,  as  he  called  the 
chief,  that  he  summoned  all  his  lady  passengers  to  obtain  a 
glimpse.     The  ladies  soon  made  their  appearance,  and  while 
staring   at  the   chief,  now   laughing,  and  now  laying  their 
bands  upon   his  ornaments,  a  most   ferocious  glance  all  at 
once  shot  from  his  eye,  and  uttering  a  scornful  speech,  he 
bolted  from  the  ring  of  impudent  spectators.     The  cause  of 
this  singular  movement  was,  that  it  is  considered  disgraceful 
for  a  Sioux  chief  to  be  seen  in  the  company  of  women,  or  to 
be  spoken  to  and  stared   upon  by  them.     The  only  person 
whose  hand  he  would  take  on  going  ashore  was   mine ;  and 
when  I  happened  to  meet  this  chief  on  a  subsequent  occasion, 
he  treated  me  with  marked  attention,  and  presented  me  with 
a  handsome  pipe. 

At  the  time  that  I  visited  Lake  Pepin  there  were  quite  a 
number  of  Sioux  Indians  encamped  upon  its  shores.  Among 
the  lodges  which  I  visited  was  that  of  a  woman,  ninety  years 


48  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

of  age  and  a  widow.  She  looked  exceedingly  wretched,  but 
was  so  intelligent  and  amiable  that  I  almost  fell  in  love  with 
the  old  antediluvian.  I  cannot  give  the  whole  of  her  long 
story,  but  an  idea  of  its  character  may  be  obtained  from  the 
following  episode,  which  I  listened  to,  seated  by  her  side,  and 
that  of  her  only  descendant — a  handsome  boy.  Her  atten- 
tion had  been  directed  to  our  steamer  which  lay  moored  a 
short  distance  off,  when  she  suddenly  broke  out  with  the  fol- 
lowing : — "  How  rapidly  does  time  fly  !  A  short  time  ago 
the  light  canoe  was  the  only  thing  that  glided  upon  this  lake  ; 
but  now  we  often  hear  the  groaning  of  the  great  fire-vessel, 
as  it  sweeps  along  like  an  angry  stag.  The  white  man's 
conduct  appears  strange.  I  can  not  understand  its  purpose. 
O,  I  am  an  old  woman  and  a  fool ! 

"  Many,  very  many,  have  been  my  trials.  Thirty  years 
has  my  husband  been  dead.  Eight  brave  sons  have  I  had, 
but  they  were  all  killed  in  battles  with  the  Chippeways.  I 
also  had  two  daughters,  who  were  like  the  does  of  the  prairie, 
but  the  Great  Spirit  has  long  since  taken  them  to  the  happy 
land.  My  only  relative,  now  living,  is  this  boy.  O,  I  am 
an  old  woman,  and  have  no  business  to  live ! 

"  But  I  will  not  despair.  The  Great  Spirit  is  at  my  fire- 
side, and  has  given  me  a  helper  in  the  dark  evening  of  my 
days.  This  boy-hunter  supplies  me  with  food.  His  arrow 
never  fails,  and  the  winds  always  tell  him  where  to  find  the 
sweet  fish.  He  paddles  my  canoe,  he  brings  me  wood  for 
my  fire,  and  he  sleeps  sweetly  by  my  side  in  my  comfortable 
lodge.  O,  I  am  an  old  woman  ! — but  what  is  there  in  the 
world  that  I  need,  and  cannot  obtain  ?" 

May  the  smiles  of  Providence  for  ever  rest  upon  this 
mother  of  a  great  nation,  whose  glory  is  personified  in  her 
feeble  and  decrepit  form. 

The  most  romantic  legend,  however,  associated  with  the 
Mississippi  Horicon  is  the  story  of  Winona.     She  was  the 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  49 


daughter  of  a  chief,  and  lived  about  one  hundred  years  ago. 
She  was  exceedingly  beautiful  and  universally  beloved.  Her 
father  had  promised  her  hand  to  a  favorite  warrior,  but  her 
heart  had  been  pledged  to  another,  not  less  brave,  but  more 
noble  and  youthful.  For  many  months  she  would  not  listen  to 
the  wishes  of  her  father; — but  his  sterner  nature  was  roused, 
and  he  vowed  that  she  7nusl  marry  the  object  of  his  choice. 
Weeks  passed  on,  and  she  knew  that  she  must  yield.  Nightly 
did  she  meet  her  accepted  lover,  but  always  talked  10  him  of 
the  Spirit  Land,  as  if  she  had  been  a  queen  of  that  fantastic 
realm.  The  marriage  night  had  been  appointed,  and  the 
chief  had  proclaimed  a  feast.  To  all  outward  appearance  a 
change  suddenly  came  over  the  daughter's  mind,  and  she 
smiled  and  talked,  like  one  about  to  be  made  a  happy  bride. 
Anions  the  delicacies  that  were  to  be  eaten  on  the  occasion, 
was  a  certain  berry  that  was  found  in  great  perfection  upon 
a  certain  hill  or  bluff.  It  was  a  pleasant  summer  afternoon, 
and  all  the  female  friends  of  Winona,  accompanied  by  her- 
self, were  picking  the  desired  berries. 

Carelessly  did  they  all  wander  up  the  hillside,  while  'an 
occasional  laugh  would  ring  upon  the  air;  but  Winona  was 
only  seen  to  smile,  for  (though  those  loving  friends  knew  it 
not)  her  heart  was  darkened  by  many  a  strange  shadow. 
Carelessly  did  the  berry-gatherers  wander  on  ;  when  all  at 
once  a  low  melancholy  song  fell  upon  their  ears,  and  lo  ! 
upon  the  very  edge  of  a  beetling  precipice  stood  the  form  of 
the  much  loved  Winona. 

Her  song  was  death-like,  and  when  her  companions  were 
intuitively  convinced  of  the  contemplated  deed,  they  were 
stupified  with  horror.  Winona  motioned  them  to  keep  back, 
while  her  song  increased  until  it  became  a  perfect  wail.  The 
burthen  of  it  was, 

"  Farewell,  sisters  : — 
I  am  going  to  the  Spirit  Land  ; 


50  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


My  warrior  will  come  after  me, 
And  we  shall  be  blessed." 

One  moment  more,  and  Winona,  the  pride  of  all  the  In- 
dian villages  on  Lake  Pepin,  was  deeply  buried  in  its  clear 
cold  bosom.  And  this  is  the  story  that  hallows  the  loftiest 
peak  of  this  lake.  I  obtained  it,  as  here  related,  from  one 
of  her  kindred,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  true.  As  to  Winona's 
warrior,  it  is  said  that  he  lived  for  many  years  a  hermit,  and 
finally  died  a  madman.     So  runneth  many  a  song  of  life. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Mouth  of  the  Saint  Peter's,  July,  1846. 

The  scenery  between  Lake  Pepin  and  the  Saint  Croix  is 
not  as  lofty  nor  as  picturesque  as  that  we  have  already  passed, 
but  its  interest  is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  greater  number  of 
Indians  that  we  here  meet.  The  Red  Wing  village  is  nearly 
midway  between  the  two  lakes  mentioned,  and  contains  about 
six  hundred  souls.  A  short  distance  from  this  village  are  two 
isolated  mountains,  whence  may  be  seen  a  most  magnificent 
panorama  of  the  wilderness,  and  when  viewed  at  sunset  pre- 
sents more  the  appearance  of  dream  land  than  reality. 
These  mountains  from  time  immemorial  have  been  used  as  the 
altars  where  Indian  war  parties  have  offered  up  their  sacri- 
fices, previous  to  going  to  battle.  At  the  present  time,  how- 
ever, their  only  inhabitants  are  rattlesnakes,  which  slumber 
on  their  sunny  slopes  or  in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  during  the 
lono-  summer.  And  thus  is  it  throughout  the  world,  in  the 
wilderness  as  well  as  the  city,  death  and  the  beautiful  are 
ever  linked  together  in  an  unbroken  brotherhood. 

I  only  remained  at  the  Red  Wing  village  one  night,  but 
such  a  night  I  hope  never  to  pass  again.  A  perfect  outcast 
of  a  trader  had  furnished  the  Indians  with  "  fire-water," 
and  the  whole  posse  of  them  were  perfectly  mad,  for  spirit- 
uous liquor  always  makes  the  poor  Indian  miserably  crazy. 
For  want  of  a  better  place,  I  had  to  sleep  in  the  cabin  of 
this  very  trader.     My  bed  was  on  the  floor,  while   my  host 


u.  OF  ill  ID. 


52  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

and  his  family  occupied  a  couple  of  beds  in  opposite  corners 
of  the  only  room  in  the  house.  And  such  horrible  yelling 
and  screaming  as  I  heard  during  the  first  half  of  that  night, 
I  can  never  forget.  The  noises  were  perfectly  unearthly 
and  devilish.  Now,  you  might  hear  the  clashing  of  knives, 
as  some  of  the  more  desperate  spirits  came  together  in  a 
fight ;  and  now  you  might  hear  the  sobbings  and  moanings 
of  a  miserable  woman,  as  she  exposed  and  mutilated  her 
body,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  a  dead  husband  or  child. 

But  there  was  one  incident  which  actually  made  my  hair 
stand  out  like  the  quills  of  the  porcupine.  I  should  premise 
that  the  few  white  people  of  the  wilderness  never  think  of 
locking  their  doors  at  night ;  and  also  that  the  Indians  of 
this  region  claim  it  as  a  privilege  to  enter  and  depart  from 
your  cabin  whenever  they  please,  and  their  intrusions  are 
always  looked  upon  as  matters  of  course.  It  was  somewhat 
after  midnight,  and  the  yelling  of  the  savages  had  partly 
subsided.  I  had  just  fallen  into  a  doze,  when  I  was  startled 
by  the  stealthy  opening  of  our  cabin  door  and  the  tread  of  a 
muffled  footstep.  It  was  intensely  dark,  but  I  knew  it  was  an 
Indian,  and  thought  that  somebody  was  about  to  be  murdered. 
The  object  in  the  room  made  just  noise  enough  to  rack  my 
brain,  and  then  was  perfectly  still.  I  listened,  and  with 
hardly  a  particle  of  breath  in  my  body, — I  still  kept  listening, 
— until  I  actually  fainted  upon  my  pillow  with  excess  of  fear. 
Finally  I  slept,  and  my  dreams  were  of  blood,  and  blood 
only.  The  first  peep  of  day,  however,  awakened  me,  when 
lo !  directly  at  my  side,  flat  on  the  floor,  was  a  huge  black 
Indian,  breathing  in  his  deep  slumber  like  a  porpoise.  The 
first  intelligence  that  I  heard  on  going  out  of  the  door  was, 
that  one  Indian  had  been  killed  during  the  night,  and  that 
another  was  at  that  moment  in  the  agonies  of  death.  As 
may  be  supposed,  I  left  the  Red  Wing  village  with  pleasure. 

Lake  Saint  Croix  empties  into  the   Mississippi,  and  its 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  53 


principal  inlet  is  a  river  of  the  same  name  which  rises  in  the 
vicinity  of  Lake  Superior.  This  is  the  valley  through 
which  the  traders  and  Indians  have  been  in  the  habit  of  pass- 
ing, for  a  century  past,  on  their  way  from  the  western  prai- 
ries to  Lake  Superior,  and  from  the  lake  back  again  to  the 
prairies.  The  river  is  only  distinguished  for  one  waterfall 
of  uncommon  beauty.  The  lake  is  about  twenty-five  miles 
long,  from  two  to  five  wide,  and  surrounded  with  charming 
scenery.  The  water  is  clear  but  of  a  rich  brown  color, 
and  well  supplied  with  fish,  of  which  the  trout  is  the  most 
abundant. 

At  the  outlet  of  this  lake,  I  visited  another  encampment 
of  Sioux  Indians,  where  I  saw  a  noted  chief,  named  Little 
Crow.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  but  both  of  his  arms  had 
recently  been  broken  by  a  rifle  ball,  which  was  shot  by  one 
of  his  own  brothers, — who  was  envious  of  his  station  as 
chief.  As  a  punishment  for  his  wickedness  Little  Crow 
had  ordered  four  bullets  to  be  fired  at  his  brother,  which  of 
course  numbered  him  with  the  dead.  I  saw  his  new-made 
grave,  and  his  youthful  wife  wailing  over  it,  like  one  that 
was  sorrowing  without  hope. 

From  Saint  Croix  to  Saint  Peter's,  the  banks  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi are  steep,  but  only  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
in  height.  The  river  is  here  studded  with  islands  whose 
shadowy  recesses  are  cool  during  the  hottest  weather ; — and 
a  more  delightful  region  for  the  botanist  to  ramble  cannot 
be  found  elsewhere  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  water  is 
clear  as  crystal,  and  its  bosom  is  generally  covered  with 
water-fowl,  from  the  graceful  snow-white  swan  to  the  mal- 
lard and  wood-duck.  Isolated  Indian  wigwams  are  fre- 
quently seen  here,  pitched  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  and 
at  the  foot  of  vine-covered  precipices. 

But  there  are  three  landscape  views  connected  with  this 
portion  of  the  Mississippi,  which  1  thought  perfectly  magni- 


54  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


ficent.  I  witnessed  them  all  during  a  single  afternoon,  and 
in  the  light  of  a  mellow  sunshine.  The  first  was  of  a  rolling 
prairie  that  faded  away  to  the  western  sky,  until  its  outline 
was  actually  lost  in  the  hazy  atmosphere.  Not  a  solitary 
tree  did  I  behold,  but  a  perfect  sea  of  grass,  that  was 
delightfully  relieved  with  flowers  of  every  variety  of  shape 
and  color.  Occasionally  a  breeze  would  pass  across  the 
scene,  causing  unnumbered  tiny  billows  to  quiver  over  the 
surface  of  mightier  ones,  which  seemed  to  be  careering  on- 
ward to  some  unknown  shore.  Covering  the  foreground  of 
this  picture  might  be  seen  an  immense  flock  of  grouse,  feed- 
ing, or  chasing  each  other  in  sport ;  and  then,  an  occasional 
prairie  squirrel  as  it  sat  at  the  entrance  of  its  hole ;  while 
in  the  middle  distance  a  robber  wolf  glided  over  one  of  the 
ridges  of  the  prairie,  with  his  form  pictured  against  the  sky. 
The  lone  lost  feeling  which  possessed  my  heart,  when  I 
thought  of  the  great  prairie- world,  then  lying  before  me,  I 
cannot  describe  ;  it  was  composed  of  delight  and  melan- 
choly, of  perfect  confidence  and  tormenting  fear. 

Another  picture  which  I  witnessed  from  a  commanding 
hill  top,  was  of  an  untrodden  wilderness  of  woods,  reaching 
to  the  extreme  horizon  on  the  north.  Owing  to  my  elevated 
position  the  forest-world  appeared  perfectly  level,  and,  ex- 
cepting one  barren  ledge,  was  without  a  single  object  to 
mar  the  monotony  of  the  scene.  On  that  ledge,  however, 
with  the  aid  of  my  glass  I  could  just  discern  the  dead  body 
of  a  deer,  with  a  black  bear  reclining  at  its  side,  as  if  sated 
with  his  feast :  while  in  his  neighborhood  were  standing 
some  thirty  vultures  in  a  state  of  delightful  anticipation. 

The  other  scene  which  I  mentioned,  was  witnessed  from 
the  lofty  bluff  that  fronts  the  mouth  of  the  Saint  Peter's  river. 
Far  beneath  my  feet  glided  the  majestic  iMississippi  ; — on 
my  right  stood  the  handsome  and  commanding  barracks  of 
Fort  Snelling,  surmounted   by  the  stars  and  stripes  ;  on  my 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  55 


left,  the  naked  peak  of  the  Pilot's  Nob,  with  a  cluster  of 
trading-houses  at  its  base  ;  directly  before  me,  windinn- 
away  like  a  mighty  serpent  between  a  multitude  of  islands, 
lay  the  deep  and  turbid  Saint  Peter's  river;  and  far  beyond, 
— far  as  the  eye  could  reach — the  prairie  land,  whose 
western  boundary  is  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

The  landscape  was  indeed  glorious,  and  there  was  some- 
thing to  gratify  my  national  pride  in  the  flag  that  fluttered 
in  the  breeze ;  but  when  I  thought  of  the  busi?iess  of  that 
Fort  and  the  end  for  which  the  people  of  the  hamlet  were 
living  in  the  wilderness,  the  poetry  of  the  scene  was  marred, 
and  I  longed  to  dive  still  deeper  in  the  wild  world  which  re. 
posed  so  peacefully  before  me. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

Mouth  of  the  Saint  Peter's,  July,  1846. 

The  hamlet  of  Saint  Peter  is  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saint 
Peter's  river,  and  at  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation  on  the 
Mississippi.  My  sojourn  here  has  been  interesting  from 
many  circumstances.  I  feel  that  I  am  on  the  extreme  verge 
of  the  civilized  world,  and  that  all  beyond,  to  the  ordinary 
traveller,  is  a  mysterious  wilderness  ;  and  every  object  which 
attracts  my  attention  is  made  doubly  entertaining  by  the  po- 
lite attentions  I  receive  from  several  gentlemen  connected 
with  Fort  Snelling  and  the  Fur  Company. 

Here  it  was  that  I  first  saw  an  extensive  encampment  of 
Sioux  or  Dacotah  Indians,  who  had,  within  six  miles  of  the 
Fort,  no  less  than  three  large  villages.  This,  as  is  well 
known,  is  one  of  the  most  peculiar  and  savage  tribes  of  the 
northwest,  and  as  I  happen  to  be  here  during  their  gala  sea- 
son,  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  being  present  at  some  of 
their  feasts  and  games. 

On  one  occasion  it  was  announced  throughout  the  village 
that  the  Indians  were  to  have  a  Dog  Feast,  in  which  none  but 
the  bravest  and  most  distinguished  of  the  warriors  are  allowed 
to  participate.  The  idea  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  this  rite  is, 
that  by  eating  of  a  dog's  liver  the  heart  is  made  strong.  The 
feast  took  place  on  the  open  prairie,  in  the  afternoon,  and  was 
attended  by  about  one  hundred  men,  while  there  must  have 
been  a  thousand  spectators.  The  first  step  in  the  ceremony 
was  for  the  Indians  to  seat  themselves  in  a  circle  around  a 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  57 


large  polo,  and  devote  a  few  moments  to  smoking.  Their 
only  article  of  clothing  was  the  clout,  and  their  only  weapon 
a  lornr  knife,  while  their  heads  were  decorated  with  death- 
trophies,  and  their  bodies  encircled  by  a  belt  from  which  hung 
all  the  scalps  the  wearers  had  taken.  Suddenly  a  whoop 
was  given,  and  the  whole  party  commenced  dancing  to  the 
monotonous  music  of  a  drum.  Then  broke  upon  the  ear 
the  howl,  and  in  a  moment  more  the  dying  groan  of  a  dog 
from  without  the  circle  of  dancers.  The  carcass  was  thrown 
into  their  midst  by  a  woman.  A  chorus  of  deafening  yells 
resounded  through  the  air,  the  dog  was  immediately  opened, 
his  liver  taken  out,  suspended  to  the  pole  by  a  string,  and 
the  dance  resumed.  A  moment  had  hardly  elapsed,  how- 
ever, before  the  dancers,  one  after  another,  stepped  up  and 
took  a  bite  of  the  yet  warm  and  quivering  liver.  Soon  as  this 
was  all  eaten,  another  dog  was  thrown  into  the  ring,  and  the 
same  horrible  ceremony  repeated  ;  and  so  they  continued 
until  the  carcasses  of  ten  dogs  were  lying  at  the  foot  of  the 
pole  in  the  centre  of  the  dancing  crowd.  Another  human 
howl  ascended  to  the  sky,  and  the  feast  was  ended.  All 
the  while  the  river  flowed  peacefully  onward,  and  the  mellow 
sunlight  bathed  in  its  own  gorgeous  hues  the  illimitable 
prairie. 

I  have  also  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  in  this  place 
the  Indian  mode  of  playing  Ball.  There  is  nothing  exclu- 
sive in  this  game,  and  every  male  Indian  who  is  sufficiently 
active  may  take  a  part  therein.  It  sometimes  lasts  for  sev- 
eral days,  and  when  I  witnessed  it,  was  played  by  two  com- 
panies or  bands,  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  individuals 
each.  The  balls  used  are  formed  of  a  deer-skin  bag,  stuffed 
with  the  hair  of  that  animal  and  sewed  with  its  sinews.  The 
clubs  are  generally  three  feet  long,  and  have  at  the  lower 
end  a  sinewy  netting,  sufficiently  large  to  hold  the  ball,  and 
each  player  is  furnished  with  one  of  these  clubs.   With  these 


58  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

they  catch  and  throw  the  ball,  and  though  they  are  not  al- 
lowed to  touch  it  with  their  hands,  it  is  sometimes  kept  from 
once  touching  the  ground  for  a  whole  afternoon.  The  station 
of  each  party  is  marked  by  a  pole,  on  a  line  with  which  the 
players  stand,  just  before  beginning  the  game.  The  poles  are 
usually  about  five  hundred  yards  apart.  The  ball  first 
makes  its  appearance  midway  between  the  parties,  to  which 
point  a  most  furious  rush  is  made,  and  the  object  to  be  at- 
tained and  which  talleys,  is,  for  the  player  to  throw  the  ball 
outside  of  his  own  line  of  standing. 

The  Olympic  beauty  of  this  game  is  beyond  all  praise. 
It  calls  into  active  exercise  every  muscle  of  the  human 
frame,  and  brings  into  bold  relief  the  supple  and  athletic  forms 
of  the  best-built  people  in  the  world.  The  only  ornaments 
worn  are  of  paint  and  marked  all  over  the  body,  which,  with 
the  usual  exception,  is  perfectly  naked.  At  one  time  a  figure 
will  rivet  your  attention  similar  to  the  Apollo  Belvidere, 
and  at  another,  you  will  actually  be  startled  by  the  surpass- 
ing elegance  of  a  Mercury.  The  only  music  that  accom- 
panies the  game  is  a  chorus  of  wild  clear  laughter.  The 
only  drawback  connected  with  it  is  the  danger  of  getting 
your  legs  broken,  or  the  breath  knocked  out  of  your  body, 
which  are  calamities  that  frequently  happen. 

There  are  not  many  particulars  with  regard  to  manners 
and  habits  wherein  the  Sioux  Indians  differ  from  their  sur- 
rounding brethren.  Living,  as  they  mostly  do,  in  a  vast 
prairie  region,  their  favorite  and  principal  mode  of  travelling 
is  on  horseback,  and  away  from  the  larger  rivers,  you  will 
find  them  possessed  of  the  finest  horses,  which  they  love  and 
protect  with  true  Arabian  affection.  They  are  of  course 
admirable  horsemen,  and  very  expert  in  hunting  the  buffalo. 
They  are  most  cruel  and  vindictive  towards  their  enemies, 
and  have,  from  time  immemorial,  been  at  war  with  their 
neighbors  of  the  north  and  west ;    and  their  hatred  of  the 


[HEB    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  59 


white  man  seems  to  be  a  cherished  emotion  of  their  nature. 
Physically  Bpeaking,  they  are  a  noble  race  of  men  and 
women,  but  universally  considered  as  the  Jshmaelites  of  the 
wilderness.  Speaking  of  these  Indians,  reminds  me  of  their 
pictorial  historian,  Capt.  Seth  Eastman.  This  gentleman  is 
an  officer  in  the  army,  and  an  artist  of  ability.  He  is  a 
native  of  Maine,  has  been  in  the  service  about  eighteen  years, 
and  stationed  at  Fort  Snelling  for  the  last  five.  All  his 
leisure  time  has  been  devoted  to  the  study  of  Indian  charac- 
ter, and  the  portraying  upon  canvass  of  their  manners  and 
customs,  and  the  more  important  fragments  of  their  history. 
The  Sioux  tribes  have  attracted  the  most  of  his  attention, 
although  he  has  not  neglected  the  Chippevvays,  and  he  has 
done  much  to  make  us  acquainted  with  the  Seminoles  of 
Florida,  where  he  was  once  stationed  for  several  years. 
Excepting  a  few,  which  he  has  occasionally  presented  to  his 
friends,  all  that  he  ever  painted  are  now  in  his  possession, 
and  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  spend  many  agreeable  hours 
admiring  their  beauties.  The  collection  now  numbers  about 
four  hundred  pieces,  comprising  every  variety  of  scenes, 
from  the  grand  Medicine  Dance  to  the  singular  and  affecting 
Indian  Grave.  When  the  extent  and  character  of  this  Indian 
Gallery  are  considered,  it  must  be  acknowledged  the  most 
valuable  in  the  country,  not  even  excepting  that  of  George 
Catlin.  But  what  adds  greatly  to  the  interest  called  forth 
by  these  pictures  is  the  use  to  which  they  are  to  be  applied. 
Instead  of  being  used  as  a  travelling  exhibition  to  accumulate 
gold,  this  gallery  is  to  be  presented  to  a  distinguished  college, 
from  which  the  artist  will  only  demand  the  education  of  his 
children.  There  is  something  in  this  movement  so  foreign 
to  the  sordid  passion  of  our  age,  and  so  characteristic  of  the 
true  spirit  of  art,  that  the  heart  is  thrilled  with  pleasure  as 
we  remember  the  American  soldier-artist  of  the  wilderness. 
I   have   also  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  at  St.  Peter's 


60  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

M.  Lamarre  Piquo,  the  distinguished  French  naturalist  from 
Paris.  He  has  been  in  the  Indian  country  upwards  of  a 
year,  and  is  to  remain  some  months  longer.  He  is  on  a  pro- 
fessional tour,  collecting  specimens  in  every  department  of 
natural  history,  and  for  that  purpose  is  constantly  wandering 
along  the  rivers,  through  the  woods,  and  over  the  prairies  of 
the  northwest,  with  no  companions  but  Half-Breeds  or  Indi- 
ans. He  seems  to  be  a  most  passionate  lover  of  his  science, 
and  the  appearance  of  his  temporary  store-room  or  museum 
is  unique  and  interesting.  Here,  an  immense  buffalo  stares 
at  you  with  its  glassy  eyes,  while  just  above  it,  pinned  to 
the  wall,  may  be  seen  a  collection  of  curious  beetles,  butter- 
flies, and  other  insects ;  then  an  elk  and  a  deer  will  display 
their  graceful  forms,  while  at  their  feet  will  be  coiled  up  the 
rattlesnake,  the  adder,  and  other  frightful  serpents  ;  here 
the  otter,  the  beaver,  the  fox,  the  wolf,  the  bear,  and  other 
native  animals ;  there  a  complete  flock  of  web-footed  crea- 
tures, from  the  wild  swan  and  pelican  to  the  common  duck ; 
here  an  eagle  and  hawk,  a  partridge  and  scarlet-bird  ;  and 
there,  embalmed  in  spirit,  a  vast  variety  of  curious  reptiles. 
M.  Lamarre  Piquo  belongs  to  that  honorable  class  of  scholars 
whose  labors  tend  to  develope  the  glorious  resources  of  our 
country,  and  among  whom  we  find  such  men  as  Wilson, 
Audubon,  Silliman,  and  Houghton. 

Amonsj  the  natural  beauties  associated  with  St.  Peter's 
ought  not  to  be  forgotten  Carver's  Cave,  the  Cascade  Water- 
fall, the  Lakes,  and  the  Pilot's  Nob.  The  Cave  is  about 
four  miles  below,  and  was  named  after  Carver,  who  was  the 
first  white  man  that  explored  it  thoroughly  ;  its  Indian  name 
however  was  Wahon-teebe,  which  means  Dwelling  of  the 
Great  Spirit.  The  entrance  to  it  is  on  the  brink  of  the 
river,  five  feet  high  and  about  twice  as  wide ;  and  the  arch 
within  is  not  far  from  fifteen  feet  high  and  twenty  broad. 
The  bottom   is  covered   with   sand,  which  slopes  down  to  a 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  Gl 


lake  of  pure  water,  the  opposite  boundary  of  which  lias 
never  been  visited.  On  one  of  the  inner  sides,  not  far  from 
the  entrance,  arc  quite  a  number  of  Indian  hieroglyphics, 
partly  covered  with  the  moss  of  by-gone  centuries. 

About  two  miles  north  of  St.  Peter's  there  empties  into 
the  Mississippi  a  small  river,  without  a  name,  the  parent  of 
a  most  beautiful  waterfall.  The  stream  is  perhaps  fifty  feet 
wide,  and  after  a  wayward  passage  across  the  green  prairie, 
it  finally  comes  to  a  precipice  of  more  than  one  hundred 
feet  deep,  and  in  an  unbroken  sheet  discharges  its  translu- 
cent treasure  into  the  pool  below.  So  completely  hidden  by 
a  mass  of  foliage  is  this  fall,  that  you  would  pass  it  by  un- 
noticed, were  it  not  for  its  ever-murmuring  song.  The  array 
of  luxuriant  trees  that  surround  it,  seem  to  be  acquainted 
with  its  sorrow,  for  they  all  bend  gracefully  over  it  in  sym- 
pathy and  love  ;  while  the  spray  which  ascends  from  the 
abyss  seems  like  the  incense  of  a  mysterious  sacrifice.  But 
before  a  thought  of  poetic  melancholy  can  glide  into  the 
heart,  the  eye  is  deli^hUd  with  the  form  and  colors  of  a 
rainbow,  and  the  contradictory  and  unaccountable  influences 
of  nature  make  us  happy. 

The  Lakes  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Peter's,  on  the 
bosom  of  the  prairie,  number  some  four  or  five,  the  most 
conspicuous  of  which  are  Harriet  and  Calhoun.  They  are 
not  deep,  but  perfectly  clear,  abound  in  fish,  and  encircled 
with  sand.  The  Pilot's  Nob  is  a  grass-covered  peak,  com- 
manding a  most  magnificent  series  of  views.  To  the  west 
lies  a  boundless  prairie ;  to  the  north  and  south  the  fantastic 
valley  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  to  the  east  a  wilderness  of 
forests  and  prairie,  apparently  reaching  to  the  shores  of 
Michigan.  But  let  us  to  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  which 
are  a  few  miles  above  St.  Peter's. 

These  Falls  are  more   famous  than  remarkable.     They 
were  first  visited    by  Father    Hennepin   in   1689,  who  gave 

4 


62  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

them  their  present  name,  out  of  respect  to  his  patron  saint. 
Their  original  name,  in  the  Sioux  language,  was  Owah- 
Menah,  meaning  falling  water.  They  owe  their  reputation 
principally  to  the  fact  that  they  "  veto"  the  navigation  of  the 
Upper  Mississippi.  They  are  surrounded  with  prairie,  and 
therefore  easily  approached  from  every  direction.  The 
river  here  is  perhaps  half  a  mile  wide,  and  the  entire  height 
of  the  Falls,  including  the  upper  and  lower  rapids,  is  said  to 
measure  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet,  and  they  are  con- 
sequently without  an  imposing  feature.  The  line  of  the 
Falls  is  nearly  straight,  but  broken  near  the  centre  by  a 
large  island,  and  just  below  this  are  no  less  than  seven 
smaller  but  more  picturesque  islands,  which  are  looked  down 
upon  by  steep  bluffs  on  either  side  of  the  river.  For  half  a 
mile  before  the  waters  make  their  plunge,  they  glide  swiftly 
across  a  slanting,  but  perfectly  flat  bed  of  rock  ;  and  after 
they  have  reached  the  lower  level,  they  create  a  perfect 
sheet  of  foam,  as  if  venting  their  Avrath  upon  the  rocks 
which  impede  their  progress ;  but  in  a  few  moments  they 
murmur  themselves  to  sleep,  and  tnen  glide  onward  towards 
the  far  distant  ocean  in  perfect  peace. 

These  Falls  seem  to  be  the  grand  head-quarters  for  the 
eagles  of  the  wilderness,  which  congregate  here  in  great 
numbers.  At  one  moment  a  hungry  individual  might  be 
seen,  struggling  with  a  bass  or  trout,  directly  in  the  pure 
foam  ;  and  then  another,  with  well-filled  crop,  high  up  in 
heaven,  would  be  floating  on  his  tireless  pinions.  At  another 
time,  too,  you  might  see  a  perfect  crowd  of  them  hovering 
over  the  body  of  some  floating  animal  which  had  lost  its  life 
while  attempting  to  cross  the  upper  rapids,  and  fearful  in- 
deed was  the  shriek  of  conflict  between  those  warriors  of 
the  air. 

Associated  with  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  is  the  following 
Indian  legend.     A  Chippeway  woman,  the  daughter  of  a 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  G3 

chief,  and  the  wife  of  a  warrior,  had  been  cruelly  treated  by 
her  faithless  husband.  She  was  not  beautiful,  but  young 
and  proud,  and  the  mother  of  a  lovely  daughter-child. 
Goaded  to  the  quick  by  repeated  wrongs,  she  finally  re- 
solved to  release  herself  from  every  trouble,  and  her  child 
from  evil  friends,  by  departing  for  the  Spirit  Land,  and  the 
Falls  were  to  be  the  gateway  to  that  promised  heaven.  It 
was  an  Indian  summer  evening,  and  nature  was  hushed  into 
a  deep  repose.  The  mother  and  her  child  were  alone  in 
their  wigwam,  within  sight  and  hearing  of  the  Falls,  and  the 
father  was  absent  on  a  hunting  expedition.  The  mother 
kissed  and  caressed  her  darling,  and  then  dressed  it  with  all 
the  ornaments  in  her  possession,  while  from  her  own  person 
she  rejected  every  article  of  clothing  which  she  had  received 
from  her  husband,  and  arrayed  herself  in  richer  garments 
which  she  had  made  with  her  own  hands.  She  then  ob- 
tained a  full-blown  lily,  and  crushing  its  petals  and  breaking 
its  stem,  she  placed  it  on  a  mat  in  the  centre  of  her  lodge, 
as  a  memorial  of  her  wrongs.  All  things  being  ready,  she 
seized  the  child,  hastened  to  the  river,  launched  her  frail 
canoe,  and  in  a  moment  more  was  floating  on  the  treacherous 
stream.  According  to  a  universal  Indian  custom,  she  sang 
a  wild  death-song, — for  a  moment  her  canoe  trembled  on  the 
brow  of  the  watery  precipice,  and  in  an  instant  more  the 
mother  and  child  were  for  ever  lost  in  the  foam  below. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Crow-Wing,  July,  1846. 

My  mode  of  travelling,  from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  to 
Crow-Wing  river,  was  on  horseback.  I  obtained  my  animal 
of  a  Frenchman,  who  accompanied  me  as  a  guide.  There 
was  no  regular  road  to  follow,  but  only  a  well  beaten  trail, 
which  ran,  for  the  most  part,  along  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Mississippi,  where  lie's  a  continued  succession  of  prairies  and 
oak-openings.  We  were  each  furnished  with  a  blanket,  a 
small  stock  of  bread  and  pork,  ammunition  and  a  gun.  Our 
horses  were  young  and  fleet,  and  mine  was  particularly  easy 
and  graceful  in  his  movements.  The  day  was  scorchingly 
hot,  but  I  was  so  anxious  to  proceed  that  I  ventured  out,  and 
by  ten  o'clock  we  were  on  our  winding  way. 

A  few  hours  had  elapsed  without  meeting  with  a  single 
adventure,  when  I  fixed  my  eyes  upon  my  gun,  (which  then 
seemed  to  be  about  six  times  as  heavy  as  when  we  started,) 
and  began  to  wonder  whether  I  was  not  in  a  fair  way  of 
illustrating  Dr.  Franklin's  story  of  the  whistle.  But  before 
I  had  a  chance  even  to  cast  a  look  behind,  I  was  startled  by 
the  report  of  my  companion's  gun,  when  lo !  just  in  the 
shadow  of  a  neighboring  thicket,  I  saw  a  large  buck  make 
two  frightful  leaps  and  then  drop  to  the  earth  quite  dead. 
In  a  very  few  moments  the  two  hind  quarters  of  the  animal 
were  enveloped  in  his  hide,  and  strapped  to  my  friend's 
saddle ;  the  tune  of  my  intentions  was  changed,  and  after 
taking  a  lunch  of  bread  we  continued  on  our  journey. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  65 

Our  route,  during  the  afternoon,  lay  over  a  portion  of 
the  prairie  that  was  perfectly  alive  with  grouse.  My  guide 
considered  them  unworthy  game  for  his  gun  and  skill,  and 
Kit  me  to  enjoy  the  sport  alone.  I  had  no  dog  to  point 
them,  but  my  horse  was  so  well  trained  to  shoot  from,  that 
he  answered  very  well  as  a  substitute.  I  only  had  to  ride 
into  the  midst  of  a  Hock,  frighten  them,  bang  away,  and  dis- 
mount to  pick  them  up.  And  this  was  the  manner  in  which 
I  spent  the  "lucid  intervals"  of  our  frequent  "halts,"  by 
way  of  resting  myself  and  keeping  cool.  I  do  not  desire  to 
tell  an  unreasonable  story,  but  I  must  say  that  at  sunset  I 
had,  fastened  to  my  saddle,  upwards  of  fifty  prairie  birds. 

We  were  now  on  the  margin  of  a  handsome  stream,  in  a 
natural  meadow,  and  as  we  found  it  necessary  to  feed  and 
rest  our  horses,  we  gave  them  some  water,  hoppled  them, 
and  turned  them  at  large.  In  the  mean  time  we  amused 
ourselves  by  cooking  and  enjoying  a  portion  of  our  game, 
and  that  was  my  first  supper  in  the  wilderness.  We  roasted 
our  meat  on  one  stick,  while  just  above  it  with  another  stick 
we  melted  a  slice  of  pork,  for  the  sake  of  its  salty  drippings. 
We  dispatched  a  comfortable  quantity  of  venison,  with  an 
occasional  mouthful  of  pork  and  bread,  and  used  the  brains, 
Legs  and  breast  of  a  grouse,  for  dessert.  Our  beverage  con- 
sisted of  the  purest  water,  which  we  quaffed  in  a  position 
approaching  to  the  horizontal,  though  our  heels  were  some- 
what nearer  heaven  than  our  heads.  We  concluded  our 
repast  with  an  hour's  snooze,  and  by  the  light  of  a  thou- 
sand stars,  saddled  our  horses  once  more,  and  resumed  our 
journey. 

It  was  a  cool,  calm,  cloudless  night,  and  we  were  the 
only  human  beings  on  a  prairie  which  appeared  to  be  illim- 
itable. I  was  informed,  however,  that  a  little  speck  that 
caught  my  eye  far  to  the  westward,  was  the  cabin  of  an 
Indian    trader,    whose   nearest    neighbor   was   one  hundred 


66  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

miles  off ;  also  that  the  place  was  on  the  Mississippi  (which 
we  had  left  for  a  time)  and  was  known  as  Little  Rock.  As 
I  was  a  good  deal  fatigued,  the  poetry  of  that  unique  ride  did 
not  make  much  of  an  impression  upon  me.  I  tried  to  muster 
a  little  sentiment  on  the  occasion,  but  just  as  it  was  about  to 
manifest  itself  in  words,  my  head  would  suddenly  drop  upon 
my  shoulder  heavier  than  a  clod  ;  and  like  a  feeble,  nickering 
lamp,  my  senses  would  revive,  only  to  be  lulled  again  into 
a  doze  and  nod.  But  this  sleepy  state  of  things  was  not  to 
last  for  ever.  It  so  happened  that  we  discovered  directly  in 
our  pathway  a  solitary  wolf,  which  was  snuffing  the  ground 
as  if  on  the  scent  of  some  feeble  creature  that  would  afford 
him  a  hearty  feast.  He  was  an  ugly  looking  rascal,  and 
called  forth  from  my  companion  a  bitter  curse.  At  his  sug- 
gestion we  dismounted,  and  with  our  guns  cocked,  approached 
the  wolf,  using  our  horses  as  a  kind  of  shield.  We  had 
approached  wiihin  a  reasonable  shot  of  the  animal,  when  it 
suddenly  started,  but  seeing  nothing  but  two  horses,  it  paused, 
pricked  up  its  ears,  and  seemed  to  be  whetting  its  appetite 
for  a  supper  of  horse-flesh.  In  a  moment,  however,  the  sig- 
nal was  given,  and  the  two  heavy  charges  of  our  guns  were 
lodged  in  the  body  of  the  wolf,  which  was  at  that  instant 
supposed  to  be  in  a  precarious  condition ;  and  having  seen 
him  die,  and  taken  off  his  hide,  we  once  more  mounted  our 
faithful  steeds. 

Our  excitement  having  subsided,  we  gradually  fell  into 
a  drowsy  state  that  was  "  heavier,  deadlier  than  before." 
But  from  this  were  we  also  roused,  and  by  the  tramp  or 
pattering  of  feet  in  our  rear.  We  looked,  and  behold  !  a 
herd  of  wolves  were  coming  towards  us  on  the  keen  run. 
Our  horses  took  fright  and  became  unmanageable.  The 
prairie  devils  were  now  almost  upon  us,  when  our  horses 
actually  broke  loose  and  away  they  ran,  swifter  than  the 
breeze  that  suddenly  burst  upon  the  plain.     It  was  not  long, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  C7 


however,  before  we  left  our  enemies  far  out  of  sight,  and  at 
the  very  moment  the  clay  was  breaking  we  reached  the 
mouth  of  Crow-Wing  river.  My  companion  managed  to 
retain  his  venison,  but  when  I  came  to  count  my  birds,  I 
found  only  five  remaining,  the  balance  having  unintention- 
ally been  left  upon  the  prairie  as  food  for  the  beastly  robbers 
of  the  wilderness. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Crow-Wing,  July,  1846. 

The  spot  thus  designated  is  beautifully  situated  on  the 
east  side  of  the  Mississippi,  directly  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
known  by  that  name.  It  is  here  that  the  trader  Morrison 
resides,  whose  reputation  as  an  upright,  intelligent,  and 
noble-hearted  man,  is  coextensive  with  the  entire  wilderness 
of  the  northwest.  He  is  a  Scotchman  by  birth,  somewhat 
advanced  in  life,  and  has  resided  in  the  Indian  country  for 
thirty-five  years.  He  possesses  all  the  virtues  of  the  trader 
and  none  of  his  vices.  He  is  the  worthy  husband  of  a  worthy 
Indian  woman,  the  affectionate  father  of  a  number  of  bright 
children,  and  the  patriarch  of  all  the  Chippeway  Indians, 
who  reside  on  the  Mississippi.  Around  his  cabin  and  two 
rude  store-houses,  at  the  present  time  are  encamped  about 
three  hundred  Indians,  who  are  visiting  him,  and  I  am 
informed  that  his  guests,  during  the  summer,  seldom  amount- 
ed to  less  than  one  hundred.  And  this  is  the  place  where  I 
have  passed  ten  of  the  most  truly  delightful  days  that  I  ever 
experienced.  It  is  at  this  point  that  I  am  to  embark  in  a  canoe, 
during  my  summer  tour  with  Morrison,  (accompanied  by  his 
unique  suite,)  who  is  to  be  my  guide,  counsellor  and  friend, 
while  I  wander,  according  to  my  own  free  will,  over  the 
lake  region  of  the  extreme  Upper  Mississippi. 

Crow- Wing  is  not  only  one  of  the  most  delightfully  located 
nooks  in  the  world,  but  it  is  rich  in  historical  and  legendary 
associations.  A  famous  battle  was  once  fought  here,  between 
the  Chippeways  and  Sioux.     A  party  of  the  latter  had  gone 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  09 

up  Crow- Wing  river  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  a  certain 
Chippeway  village.  They  found  it  inhabited  only  by  women 
and  children,  every  one  of  whom  they  murdered  in  cold 
blood,  and  consumed  their  wigwams.  It  bo  happened  that 
the  Chippeway  warriors  had  been  expecting  an  attack,  and 
had  consequently  stationed  themselves  in  deep  holes  on  a 
high  hank  of  the  river  at  Crow-Wing,  intending  to  fall  upon 
the  Sioux  party  on  their  way  vp  the  river.  But  they  were 
most  sadly  disappointed.  While  watching  for  their  enemies, 
they  were  suddenly  startled  by  a  triumphant  shout  that 
floated  down  the  stream.  In  perfect  agony  they  looked, 
when  lo  !  the  very  party  that  they  were  after,  came  into  full 
view,  shouting  with  delight  and  tossing  up  the  scalps  which 
they  bad  taken.  Many  a  Chippeway  brave  recognized  the 
glossy  locks  of  his  wife  or  child,  and  knew  his  gloomiest 
anticipations  to  be  true.  They  remained  in  ambush  for  a 
few  minutes  longer,  ami  when  the  enemy  came  within  reach 
of  their  arrows,  every  single  one  of  them  was  killed,  while 
their  canoes,  plunder  and  bodies  were  suffered  to  float  down 
the  stream  unmolested  ;  and  the  pall  of  night  rested  upon 
the  hills,  the  glens,  the  waveless  river,  and  the  Chippeway 
camp. 

Among  the  many  legends  associated  with  Crow-Wing 
is  one  about  a  white  Panther,  whose  home  was  here  when 
the  world  was  young.  That  Panther  was  the  Prophet  of  a 
certain  Chippeway  tribe,  and  had  power  to  speak  the  Chip- 
peway language.  A  young  brave  was  anxious  to  revenge 
the  death  of  a  brother,  and  had  sought  the  oracle  to  learn 
the  success  of  his  intended  expedition.  The  Panther  told 
him  that  he  must  not  go,  but  wait  until  a  more  propitious 
season.  But  the  young  man  headed  his  party,  and  went ; — 
and  every  one  of  his  followers  was  killed, — himself  escaping 
by  the  merest  chance.  Thinking  that  the  Panther  had  cau8<  d 
this  calamity,  he  stole  upon  this  creature  and  slaughtered  it, 

4* 


70  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


in  the  darkness  of  midnight.  The  dying  words  of  the  oracle 
■were, — "  Cruel  and  unhappy  warrior,  I  doom  thee  to  walk 
the  earth  for  ever,  a  starving  and  undying  skeleton."  And 
it  is  said  that  this  spectre  man,  whenever  the  moon  is  tinged 
with  red,  or  the  aurora  borealis  floods  the  sky  with  purple, 
may  be  seen  flitting  in  perfect  solitude  along  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi. 

Crow-Wing  is  the  Windsor  of  the  wilderness,  for  it  is  the 
nominal  home  of  the  head  Chief  of  the  Chippeway  nation. 
His  name  is  Hole-in-the-day,  and  I  had  frequent  opportuni- 
ties of  visiting  him  in  his  lodge.  He  is  about  sixty  years 
of  age,  and  a  remarkably  handsome  man.  He  is  stern  and 
brave,  but  mean,  vain,  treacherous  and  cruel.  He  was  in 
the  habit  of  resorting  to  the  most  contemptible  tricks,  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  whisky,  with  which  he  always  made  a 
beast  of  himself.  He  was  constantly  in  the  habit  of  talking 
about  himself,  and  exhibiting  the  official  papers  which  he 
had  received  from  the  Government  in  making  treaties.  The 
following  was  the  most  famous  of  his  deeds,  and  one  that  he 
had  the  hardihood  to  boast  of  as  something  creditable.  He 
and  some  six  warriors,  while  on  a  hunting  tour,  were  hospi- 
tably entertained  in  a  Sioux  lodge,  where  resided  a  family  of 
seventeen  persons.  The  two  nations  were  at  peace,  and  for 
a  time  their  intercourse  had  been  perfectly  friendly.  On  leav- 
ing his  host,  Hole-in-the-day  shook  him  cordially  by  the 
hand,  with  a  smile  upon  his  countenance,  and  departed.  At 
midnight,  when  the  Sioux  family  were  revelling  in  their 
peaceful  dreams,  Hole-in-the-day  and  his  men  retraced  their 
steps,  and  without  a  reasonable  provocation  fell  upon  the  un- 
protected family  and  cruelly  murdered  every  member,  even 
to  the  lisping  babe.  And  it  was  in  the  lodge  of  this  titled 
leader,  that  I  spent  whole  hours  in  conversation,  and  from 
whom  I  received  a  present,  in  the  shape  of  a  handsome  red- 
stone  pipe.     It  is  indeed  a  singular  fact,  that  the  most  inter- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  71 

esting  and  intelligent  nation  of  the  West  should  be  ruled  by- 
such  an  unworthy  chief  as  Hole-in-the-day. 

A  word  now  about  his  household.     He  is  the  husband  of 
two  wives,  who  pursued,  while  I  was  present,  their  various 
avocations  in  perfect  silence.  Each  of  them  presented  me  with 
a  pair  of  moccasons,  and  placed  before  me  whole  mocuck* 
of  maple   sugar.     In  passing  I  might  remark,  that  when  the 
Indians  are  hard  pushed   for  flour  or  game,  they  will  resort 
to  their  sugar,  upon  which  they  can  live  for  days,  and  which 
they  consider  the  most  wholesome  of  food.     The  children 
that  swarmed  about  the  chief's  lodge,  I  was  unable  to  num- 
ber.    His  eldest  son   and  successor  I   frequently  met,  and 
found  him  to  be  a  perfect  Brummel  of  the  woods.     The  fol- 
lowing  story  gave  me   a  glimpse   of  his  character.     Some 
months  ago,  the  idea  had  entered  his  head  that  his  father  was 
jealous  of  his  increasing  popularity  among  the  people.     He 
was  seriously  affected  by  it,  and  in  a  fit  of  anger  resolved  to 
starve  himself  to  death.     His  friends  laughed  at  him,  but  to 
no  purpose.     He  left  his  home,  marched  into  the  woods  and 
ascended  a  certain  hill,  (called  Look-Out  hill,  and  used  from 
time  immemorial,  by  the  Indians,  as  a  point   from  which  to 
watch  the  movements  of  their  enemies  ascending  or  descend- 
in^  the  Mississippi,)  where  he  remained  four  days  without  a 
particle  of  food.     He  was  only  rescued  from  death  by  the 
timely  discovery  of  his  friends,  who  took  him  away  by  force, 
and  actually  crammed  some  nourishment  down  his  throat. 

But  my  Crow-Wing  stories  are  not  all  related  yet.  I 
here  saw,  alive  and  quite  happy,  a  warrior  who  was  once 
scalped  in  a  skirmish  on  the  northern  shore  of  Red  Lake. 
His  enemies  left  him  on  the  ground  as  dead,  but  wonderful  to 
relate,  he  gradually  recovered,  and  is  now  as  well  as  any 
body,  but  perfectly  hairless,  of  course,  and  wears  upon  his 
head  a  black  silk  handkerchief.  The  summer  after  this 
event  he  was  hunting  buffalo  in  the  Sioux  country,  when  he 


72  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

had  another  fight  with  two  Indians,  both  of  whom  he  suc- 
ceeded in  butchering,  and  one  of  those  very  men  was  the 
identical  Sioux  who  had  taken  his  scalp  a  few  months  before. 

During  my  sojourn  here,  I  have  had  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  witnessing  the  Indian  mode  of  swimming.  To 
speak  within  bounds,  there  must  be  some  sixty  boys  at 
Crow- Wing,  who  enjoy  a  swim  about  every  hour.  When 
not  in  the  water,  they  are  hard  at  work  playing  ball,  and 
all  in  the  sweltering  sunshine,  with  their  ragged  looking 
heads  entirely  uncovered,  and  their  bodies  almost  naked. 
Just  as  soon  as  the  child  is  loosened  from  its  prison  cradle,  it 
is  looked  upon  as  a  fit  candidate  for  any  number  of  duckings, 
which  are  about  its  only  inheritance.  These  children  are 
just  as  much  at  home  in  the  water  as  a  full-fledged  duck. 
They  swim  with  great  rapidity,  always  extending  one  arm 
forward,  like  a  bowsprit,  and  holding  the  other  closely  at  the 
side.  They  are  so  expert  in  diving  that  when  a  number  are 
pursuing  a  particular  individual,  and  that  one  happens  to  dive, 
the  whole  of  them  will  follow  after,  and  finally  all  come  up 
a  hundred  yards  off.  To  bring  up  a  pebble  from  a  hole 
twenty  feet  deep  is  looked  upon  as  a  very  common  feat. 
This  art  seems  to  be  inherent  in  their  nature,  and  is  the  gift 
of  a  wise  Providence  ; — for  all  their  journeys  are  performed 
on  the  water,  and  their  canoes  are  as  frail  as  frailty  itself. 
It  is  very  seldom  that  we  hear  of  an  Indian  being  drowned. 

The  only  Indian  ceremony  I  have  witnessed  at  this  place, 
is  called  the  Begging  Dance.  A  large  party  of  brave  war- 
riors had  come  to  pay  their  white  father  (Mr.  Morrison)  a 
disinterested  visit,  but  as  they  were  nearly  starved,  they  said 
not  a  word,  but  immediately  prepared  themselves  for  the 
dance,  that  is  universally  practised  throughout  the  nation. 
It  was  night,  and  all  the  people  of  Crow-Wing  were  stationed 
in  a  large  circle  before  Morrison's  door ;  while  one  swarthy 
form  held  aloft  a  birchen  torch,  which  completed  such  a  pic- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  73 

ture  as  was  never  equalled  upon  canvass.  The  everlasting 
drum,  and  rattling  of  "  dry  bones,"  commenced  their  monot- 
onous music ;  when  the  most  ridiculously  dressed  man  that  I 
ever  beheld,  stepped  out  from  the  crowd  and  commenced 
dancing,  keeping  time  with  a  guttural  hum.  Upon  his  head 
was  a  peaked  woollen  hat,  and  his  flowing  hair  was  filled  and 
entangled  with  burs.  On  his  back  he  wore  the  remnant  of 
an  ancient  military  coat,  and  on  one  leg  the  half  of  a  pair  of 
breeches,  while  his  other  propelling  member  was  besmeared 
with  mud.  In  one  hand  he  held  the  empty  skin  of  a  skunk, 
and  in  the  other  the  gaunt  body  of  a  dead  crane.  Immedi- 
ately after  this  rare  specimen,  appeared  in  regular  succession 
about  twenty  more  dressed  in  the  same  manner,  and  when  all 
out,  their  dancing  capers  were  even  more  uncouth  and  laugh- 
able than  their  personal  appearance.  The  object  of  all  this  was 
to  exhibit  their  abject  poverty,  and  create  an  atmosphere  of 
good  nature ;  and  it  was  their  method  of  asking  Mr.  Morri- 
son for  food.  Soon  as  he  had  supplied  them  with  flour  and 
pork,  they  ceased  dancing,  seized  the  booty,  and  departed  for 
their  wigwams  to  enjoy  a  feast.  On  the  following  day,  this 
band  of  gentlemen  made  their  appearance,  painted,  and 
decked  out  in  most  splendid  style,  with  the  feathers,  rib- 
bons, scarlet  leggins,  and  other  ornaments  which  they  had 
kept  hidden  until  after  the  dance  and  feast  were  ended. 

I  have  as  yet  accomplished  but  little  in  the  way  of  hunt- 
ing; that  is,  but  little  for  this  region.  On  one  occasion  I 
killed  seven  fine  looking  ducks,  which  turned  out,  however, 
to  be  unfit  to  eat,  as  they  were  of  the  dipper  species,  and  a 
little  too  fishy  even  for  my  taste  ;  at  one  time  I  killed  twenty- 
five  pigeons  ;  at  another  about  a  dozen  grouse  ;  and  last  of  all 
a  couple  of  young  coons.  This  latter  game,  I  would  remark, 
afforded  me  one  of  the  most  delectable  of  feasts. 

But  in  the  way  of  fishing,  the  waters  about  Crow-Wing 
have  treated  me  to  some  of  the  rarest  of  sport.     The  Missis- 


74  SUMMER    IN   THE    WILDERNESS. 

sippi  at  this  point  contains  a  great  variety  of  fish  of  the 
mullet  and  sucker  genus,  but  the  only  two  desirable  kinds 
are  the  muskanounge  and  a  very  large  pike.  I  tried  some 
of  these  with  a  fine  hook  hidden  in  the  breast  of  a  frog,  (the 
disciples  of  Byron  will  please  not  take  the  hint,  and  accuse 
me  of  inhuman  cruelty,)  but  I  could  not  tempt  them  in  that 
way.  The  fashionable  mode  for  taking  them  is  with  a 
spear,  by  torchlight,  and  during  half  the  hours  of  one  night 
I  performed  the  part  of  a  devotee  to  fashion.  My  pilot  was 
an  Indian,  and  we  went  in  a  birchen  canoe,  using  birch-bark 
for  a  torch.  There  were  quite  a  number  of  canoes  out  that 
night,  and  the  gliding  about  of  the  various  torches,  the  wild 
shores,  the  ever- varying  bed  of  the  river,  and  my  own  occa- 
sional struggle  with  an  immense  fish, — conspired  to  throw 
me  into  a  nervous  state  of  excitement  which  has  not  entirely 
left  me  at  the  present  moment,  I  did  think  of  mentioning 
the  number  of  prizes  that  were  taken  on  that  memorable 
night,  but  my  modesty  forbids;  I  will  only  say  that  I  saw 
extended  on  the  shore  a  muskanounge  that  weighed  fifty-seven 
pounds,  and  a  pike  that  almost  weighed  twenty-four. 

Two  miles  east  of  Morrison's  house  is  a  little  lake,  some 
four  miles  in  circumference,  which  is  said  to  contain  no  other 
fish  than  black  bass.  My  own  experience  tells  me  that  this 
report  is  true.  I  angled  along  its  sandy  shores  a  number  of 
times,  and  could  take  nothing  but  bass.  They  were  small, 
weighing  about  a  pound,  of  a  dark  green  color  on  the  back, 
sides  a  brilliant  yellow,  and  belly  perfectly  white.  I  took 
them  with  a  fly,  and  to  the  palate  found  them  perfectly 
delicious. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Crow-Wino,  July,  1846J 

The  Indian  trader  belongs  to  the  aristocracy  of  the 
wilderness.  His  business  is  to  barter  with  the  Indians  for 
their  furs,  as  the  agent  of  some  established  fur  company. 
He  is  cenerallv  a  Frenchman,  whose  ancestors  were  traders 
before  him,  and  of  course  a  native  of  the  wild  region  he  in- 
habits. Such  are  the  facts  with  regard  to  the  individual  I 
am  about  to  portray,  and  I  purpose,  by  this  specimen,  to 
give  my  reader  a  faithful  idea  of  the  class  to  which  he 
belongs. 

The  residence  of  my  friend  is  on  the  Saint  Peter's,  near 
the  brow  of  a  picturesque  point  formed  by  a  bend  of  the 
river,  and  his  nearest  white  neighbor  is  only  two  hundred 
miles  off.  The  dwelling  that  he  lives  in  is  built  of  logs, 
and  contains  one  large  room  and  a  garret.  Adjoining  this 
cabin  is  another  of  the  same  character,  where  he  keeps  his 
merchandise  ;  which  consists  chiefly  of  pork,  flour,  blankets, 
blue  and  scarlet  cloths,  and  various  kinds  of  trinkets.  His 
household  is  composed  of  an  Indian  wife  and  a  full  assort- 
ment of  half-breed  children,  who  are  generally  possessed  of 
a  good  deal  of  natural  shrewdness,  but  of  course  utterly 
ignorant  of  books  and  the  ways  of  the  civilized  world.  Ad- 
joining the  trader's  residence  is  about  one  acre  of  ploughed 
ground,  where  he  cultivates  a  few  common  vegetables ;  and 
he  keeps  a  solitary  cow,  which  yields  him  the  only  luxury 
that  he  enjoys.     His  live  stock  is  very  extensive,  but  not  of 


76  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

that  character  which  is  profitable, — it  is  peculiar  to  the 
wilderness,  and  in  our  section  of  country  would  be  called  a 
menagerie.  The  following  is  a  correct  list  of  my  friend's 
treasures  in  this  particular,  viz. : — one  grisly  bear,  two 
black  bears,  two  fawns,  one  fox,  one  coon,  one  eagle,  one 
crow,  one  cormorant,  a  flock  of  wild  geese,  two  swans, 
and  one  owl.  In  addition  to  these  I  ought  to  mention  a 
herd  of  Indian  dogs,  and  a  brotherhood  of  Indians,  who  are 
nearly  always  encamped  in  the  vicinity  of  the  trader's 
dwelling. 

Now,  as  to  the  manner  of  the  trader's  life.  Though  I 
did  not  intend  to  make  a  hero  of  my  friend,  I  must  say  that 
the  life  he  leads  is  heroic  to  an  uncommon  degree.  His 
resting  time  is  during  the  summer  months,  when  his  prin- 
cipal business  is  to  obtain  his  merchandise  and  attend  the 
various  Indian  payments  that  may  happen  to  be  made.  But 
during  the  winter,  which  is  long  and  very  severe  in  this 
region,  he  visits,  with  one  or  two  companions,  the  hunting- 
grounds  of  the  Indians, — leaving  his  home  heavily  loaded 
with  goods  and  provisions,  and  returning,  still  more  heavily 
laden  with  packs  of  furs  and  peltries.  The  hardships  and 
privations  that  he  then  endures,  would,  in  a  single  month, 
utterly  destroy  a  common  constitution  ;  but  they  are  treated 
by  him  as  matters  of  very  little  consequence,  for  his  consti- 
tution seems  to  be  of  an  iron  nature.  Several  days  does  he 
sometimes  spend  without  a  particle  of  food  ; — now,  snow- 
bound in  the  pathless  woods,  and  now  surrounded,  perhaps, 
by  a  band  of  hostile  Indians,  who  may  succeed  in  robbing 
him  of  his  furs.  Now  it  is  his  fortune  to  strufjsle  for  life 
with  some  half-famished  beast;  and  now  he  has  to  endure 
the  frightful  dangers  of  fording  angry  and  partly  frozen 
rivers.  Cold,  fatigue,  and  hunger  are  at  the  foundation  of 
almost  every  scene  that  he  passes  through  during  the  cheer- 
less winter  months  of  every  year,  in  the  Indian  Territory  of 
the  northwest. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  77 

The  intellectual  and  moral  character  of  our  Indian 
trader  is  what  would  be  expected  from  a  man  in  his  condi- 
tion. He  knows  not  how  to  read  or  write,  and  is  conse- 
quently dependent  upon  a  clerk  for  the  prosecution  of  his 
epistolary  business  and  the  keeping  of  his  memorandum 
books.  In  politics  he  is  nothing,  as  he  has  not,  from  his 
location,  the  privilege  of  voting ;  but  his  sympathies  are  in- 
variably with  those  officers  of  the  Government  who  project 
and  carry  out  measures  nominally  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor 
Indians,  but  more  particularly  for  his  own.  In  religion,  he 
is  a  blind  adherent  to  the  Pope  of  Rome.  The  glittering 
dollar  seems  to  be  the  star  of  his  ambition.  Having  been 
for  many  years  an  agent  for  the  famous  but  most  outrageous 
American  Fur  Company,  he  has  become  hardened,  and, 
like  his  teacher  in  the  science  of  oppressive  monopoly, 
seldom  hesitates  at  any  course  of  conduct  that  will  prove 
lucrative.  He  avows  himself  the  best  and  only  friend  of 
the  Indian,  and  yet  his  every  act  of  kindness  is  accompanied 
by  a  moral  stab.  He  buys  a  pack  of  furs  and  allows  the 
hunter  the  current  price,  but  then  he  pays  him  in  flour  at 
fifty  dollars  per  barrel,  and  blankets  at  ten  dollars  apiece ; 
— but  far  worse,  he  sells  to  the  benighted  savage  the  baneful 
fire  water,  which  makes  him  a  perfect  devjl. 

But  the  trader  has  some  redeeming  qualities,  and  I  know 
not  that  I  am  disposed  to  write  him  down  as  more  ignorant 
or  wicked  than  his  civilized  fellow-men  in  the  same  sphere  of 
life.  At  the  same  time  that  he  imposes  upon  the  poor  Indian, 
in  more  ways  than  one,  it  is  also  true  that  he  is  his  friend 
when  cold  and  hungry.  The  Indian  is  such  a  thoughtless 
and  improvident  creature,  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  he 
should  have  some  one  to  watch  over  him  and  keep  him  from 
starving.  And  often  is  the  trader's  duty,  in  this  particular, 
faithfully  performed  ;  witli  all  his  faults  he  would  sooner  die 
than  sec  an  Indian  suffer.     Take  the  trader  away  from  the 


78  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


cares  of  business,  as  you  sometimes  may  employ  him  as  your 
guide  in  a  hunting  expedition,  and  you  will  find  him  a  most 
interesting  companion.  Strange  as  it  will  seem,  he  is  a  de- 
voted lover  of  nature,  and  being  superstitious,  he  has  a  legend 
in  his  head  for  every  picturesque  nook  of  the  woods  and 
prairies,  and  for  every  beast  or  bird  which  may  happen  to 
cross  your  path.  He  is  well  acquainted  with  the  geography 
of  the  northwest,  and  makes  an  occasional  rude  map  upon 
birch  bark,  which  are  of  great  value  to  those  who  execute 
them  on  a  large  scale  for  our  Government.  That  portion  of 
Nicolet's  map,  representing  the  extreme  head  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, was  made  upon  bark,  by  Francis  Brunet,  who  is  to  be  my 
guide  for  hundreds  of  miles.  He  is  also  well  acquainted  with 
the  traditionary  history  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  knows  well 
the  character  of  every  chief  and  remarkable  personage  now 
living.  He  has  a  kindly  nature,  and  his  whole  conduct  is 
agreeably  softened  by  an  innate  politeness.  He  is,  to  sum 
up  all,  a  most  romantic,  but  very  useful  and  influential 
character,  and  in  intellect  the  aristocrat  of  the  wilderness. 

I  may  append  with  propriety  to  this  sketch,  a  few  words 
about  the  fur  trade  generally,  as  it  now  exists  beyond  the 
Mississippi.  A  division  took  place  in  the  American  Fur 
Company  a  few  years  ago,  and  while  one  party  was  headed 
by  Piere  Choteau,  and  traded  on  the  Missouri,  the  other  re- 
mained under  the  guiding  hand  of  Ramsey  Crook,  and  con- 
fined its  operations  to  the  region  of  the  Great  Lakes.  The 
principal  men  in  this  fur  trade,  before  and  since  the  family 
division,  succeeded  in  accumulating  large  fortunes,  but  both 
of  the  companies,  which  retain  the  original  name,  are  sup- 
posed to  be,  at  any  rate,  no  better  off  than  they  should  be. 
For  my  part  I  am  not  surprised  at  this  result,  when  I  know 
the  overbearing  and  monopolizing  character  of  these  compa- 
nies, and  when  I  believe  in  the  theory  that  iniquity  has  its 
reward  even  in  this  world.     Many  of  the  deeds  that  have 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  79 


been,  and  are  still,  sanctioned  by  the  so-called  American  Fur 
Company,  are  of  such  a  character  as  to  be  worthy  of  the  se- 
verest condemnation  ;  out  of  its  many  iniquities  I  will  men- 
tion only  one.  This  company  has  located  its  agents  in  every 
eligible  corner  of  the  wilderness,  for  the  ultimate  purpose  of 
accumulating  gold  ;  and  when  the  poor  missionary  of  the 
cross  has  crept  along  through  untold  hardships  to  plant  the 
banner  of  a  pure  religion,  for  the  benefit  of  the  red  man,  he 
has  been  insulted  and  driven  away.  But  I  like  not  this  theme, 
and  will  let  it  pass  into  forgetfulness.  When  I  am  told  that 
the  beaver  and  the  otter  and  other  valuable  animals  are  ra- 
pidly becoming  extinct,  and  that  the  glory  of  the  American 
Fur  Company  is  for  ever  departed,  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
there  is  a  wise  and  just  Providence,  who  holdeth  the  world 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hands. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Spirit  Lake,  July,  1846. 

This  Lake,  which  the  French  have  named  Mill  Lac,  and 
certain  ignorant  Yankees,  Rum  Lake,  was  originally  called 
by  the  Chippeways,  Minsisagaigoming,  which  signifies  the 
dwelling  place  of  the  Mysterious  Spirit.  In  form  it  is  almost 
round,  and  about  twenty  miles  across  in  the  widest  part. 
The  shores  are  rather  low,  but  covered  with  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  oak,  hard  maple,  and  tamarack.  It  is  shallow, 
but  clear  and  cold  ;  has  a  sandy  bottom,  and  yields  a  variety 
of  fish  ;  and  contains  only  three  islands,  which  are  small 
and  rocky. 

The  Mysterious  Spirit  alluded  to  above  has  acquired  a 
great  notoriety  on  account  of  his  frequently  taking  away  into 
the  spirit  land  certain  people  whom  he  loved.  Sometimes  he 
would  take  them  for  a  few  days,  and  sometimes  he  would 
not  return  with  them  at  all.  The  following  stories  were 
given  to  me  as  facts,  and  I  know  were  actually  believed. 
An  Indian,  with  his  family,  had  encamped  upon  the  lake  for 
one  night,  and  just  as  he  was  about  to  depart  on  the  following 
morning,  he  could  not  find  his  only  child,  a  little  girl.  At 
one  moment  she  was  seen  picking  up  some  pebbles  near  her 
father's  canoe,  and  the  very  next  was  gone.  For  six  days 
did  they  seek  the  child,  but  in  vain.  On  the  seventh  day, 
however,  as  they  were  about  to  depart  once  more,  (having 
given  up  all  hope  of  recovering  the  lost  one),  they  looked, 
and  behold !  she  was  again  picking  up  pebbles  beside  the 
canoe,  as  unconcerned  as  if  nothing  had  happened.     When 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  81 

quostioni'il,  she  answered  that  she  had  only  been  taken  away 
by  a  beautiful  lady  to  a  beautiful  land,  where  she  had  been 
happy  in  seeing  many  beautiful  things. 

Once  when  there  was  a  party  of  Indians  encamped  here, 
a  favorite  young  girl  was  discovered  to  be  missing,  and  her 
friends,  supposing  that  she  had  been  drowned,  were  mourn- 
ing bitterly  at  her  departure ;  one  day  she  made  her  appear- 
ance in  her  father's  lodge,  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and 
was  accompanied  by  two  dogs.  Her  story  was,  that  an  old 
woman  had  taken  her  to  an  island,  presented  her  with  the 
animals,  and  bade  her  prepare  for  a  long  journey.  She  was 
absent  for  three  weeks,  but  on  the  day  of  her  return  was 
numbered  with  the  dead. 

A  little  boy  was  also  once  lost  on  the  margin  of  this  lake. 
The  only  trace  of  him  that  ever  could  be  discovered,  was  one 
of  his  arrows  found  lodged  in  a  tree.  And  the  Indians  be- 
lieve  too  that  the  aged  mother  of  Hole-in-the-day  (the  great 
chief)  was  also  carried  away  by  this  Mysterious  Spirit.  One 
thing  is  certain,  say  they,  she  disappeared  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  from  the  party  with  whom  she  was  travelling  many 
years  ago.  These  are  indeed  idle  legends,  but  give  us  an 
insight  into  the  Indian  mind. 

The  following  is  an  historical  fact,  which  only  proves  the 
obstinacy  of  their  principal  actor.  Many  years  ago,  a  chief 
named  White  Fisher,  with  his  family  and  a  party  of  braves, 
were  encamped  in  one  large  lodge  on  the  north  side  of  Spirit 
Lake.  A  friendly  Indian  entered  the  cabin  at  sunset,  and 
told  the  chief  that  he  had  seen  a  war-party  of  three  Sioux  on 
his  trail.  The  chief  scorned  to  believe  the  story,  because 
his  dreams  had  told  him  nothing  about  an  enemy.  In  a  short 
time  his  eldest  son  returned  from  his  evening  hunt,  and  said 
that  he  had  also  seen  three  Sioux  in  the  woods  about  a  mile 
off; — but  the  father  continued  to  disbelieve.  Finally  tin- 
chief's  own  brother  told  him  a  similar  story,  which  was  also 


82  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

treated  with  contempt.  It  was  now  morning,  and  the  chief 
made  his  appearance  outside  of  his  lodge,  and  was  about  to 
go  upon  a  hunt ; — but  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  three  balls 
passed  through  his  body,  and  he  died.  Every  single  mem- 
ber of  his  household  was  killed,  excepting  his  youngest  son, 
who  was  taken  prisoner,  lived  in  the  Sioux  country  for 
twenty  years,  but  finally  returned  to  his  own  people,  and  he 
was  the  identical  individual  from  whose  lips  I  obtained  the 
above  facts.  He  is  now  a  chief,  and  universally  known  by 
his  father's  name,  Wabogike,  or  White  Fisher. 

On  the  west  bank  of  Spirit  River,  where  it  leaves  the 
lake,  is  the  rude  grave  of  Kitcheoseyin,  or  Elder  Brother, 
who  was  one  of  the  most  famous  orators  of  his  nation.  He 
was  a  noted  chief,  and  on  one  occasion  had  given  up  into  the 
hands  of  the  white  men  a  certain  Chippeway  murderer.  His 
people  were  very  angry  at  him,  and  it  was  currently  reported 
that  he  was  about  to  be  assassinated.  He  heard  of  this  inter- 
esting movement,  and  immediately  summoned  a  council. 
The  warriors  were  all  assembled,  and  when  the  pipe  had 
been  passed  entirely  round,  the  chief  stepped  forward  and 
addressed  the  council  in  the  following  words,  which  were  re- 
peated to  me  by  one  who  heard  them. 

"  Friends,  relatives,  and  brothers.  My  object  in  calling 
you  together  in  council  is  this.  I  hear  that  you  desire  to 
take  away  my  life  because  I  have  given  up  to  the  white  men 
a  Chippeway  Indian,  who  had  murdered  one  of  their  people. 
I  have  done  so,  brave  men,  and  I  think  I  have  done  right. 
That  man  who  committed  the  murder  was  a  had  dog, — he  was 
not  a  true  Chippeway  Indian,  and  for  his  wicked  deed  he  de- 
serves to  die.  Had  we  been  at  war  with  the  white  nation,  it 
would  have  been  well, — but  we  are  at  peace. 

"  But,  brothers,  I  understand  that  you  accuse  me  of  siding 
with  the  pale  faces,  and  that  you  think  such  conduct  wrong. 
I  do  love  the  white   men,  and  I  do  not  think   my  conduct 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  83 

wrong.  Who  is  it,  I  would  ask  you,  that  supplies  us  with  food 
when  game  is  scarce,  and  who  gives  the  warm  blanket  to 
protect  us  from  the  winter  cold  ?  Who  is  it  that  gives  us  the 
guns  that  we  so  much  need,  and  the  tobacco  that  we  so  much 
love  ?  You  know  that  it  is  the  white  man,  and  you  know 
too  that  you  act  like  fools  to  blame  me  for  my  conduct,  and 
seek  to  kill  me  because  I  would  be  an  honest  Chippeway. 

"  I  tell  you,  warriors,  that  I  do  love  the  white  man,  and  I 
am  ready  to  die  for  his  sake.  You  cannot  compel  me  to 
change  my  opinion.  Make  a  hole  in  the  lake  yonder,  take 
me  by  force  and  place  me  under  it  until  I  am  almost  dead, 
then  pull  me  up  and  ask  me,  ■  Will  you  side  with  the  white 
man  now  V  and  I  will  answer,  '  Yes.'  Do  it  again,  and 
again,  and  again,  and  I  will  always  answer,  '  Yes,'  and  also 
that  '  the  white  man  is  the  best  friend  we  have.'  Friends, 
I  command  you  to  go  home,  and  ever  hereafter  mind  your 
own  business." 

Strange  as  it  may  seem  this  speech  had  the  desired  effect, 
and  entirely  quelled  the  rising  storm.  The  chief  was  not 
killed,  but  died  many  years  afterward  with  the  lockjaw,  from 
a  cut  that  he  accidentally  received  on  his  foot. 

The  ruling  chief  of  Spirit  Lake,  at  the  present  time,  is 
Naguanabic,  or  Outside  Feather.  He  is  said  to  be  the  most 
worthy,  intelligent  and  influential  of  all  the  Chippeway  chiefs. 
I  spent  many  agreeable  and  instructive  hours  in  his  lodge, 
and  among  my  Indian  curiosities  there  is  nothing  that  lvalue 
more  highly  than  the  presents  I  received  from  him.  It  does 
my  heart  good  to  remember  the  old  man,  and  the  beautiful 
lake  which  is  his  home. 

A  son  of  this  old  Indian,  while  hunting,  once  pursued  a 
deer  to  a  very  great  distance,  which  he  finally  captured. 
Out  of  revenge  for  the  improper  conduct  of  the  animal,  the 
cruel  Indian  tortured  it  in  a  variety  of  ways,  and  came  home 
boasting  of  what  he  had  done.     At  the  feast  usually  given  on 


84  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


such  occasions,  this  old  chief  addressed  his  son  in  the  follow, 
ing  words  :  "  We  are  thankful  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  furnish- 
ing us  with  food.  But  my  son  has  acted  very  wrong  in  tor- 
turing that  animal,  and  if  the  laws  of  the  Great  Spirit  are 
not  changed  from  what  they  were  in  times  past,  that  boy  shall 
not  be  privileged  to  kill  another  deer  during  the  whole  win- 
ter." And  I  was  told  that  he  did  not,  and  that  no  cruel 
hearted  man  ever  can,  under  similar  circumstances. 

It  was  from  the  lips  of  this  aged  Indian  that  I  obtained  the 
following  legend. 

A  thousand  winters  ago,  the  Great  Spirit  caused  the  sun 
to  be  fastened  in  the  heavens,  for  the  purpose  of  destroying 
the  world  on  account  of  an  enormous  sin  which  had  been 
committed.  The  men  of  that  time  assembled  together  in 
council,  but  could  devise  no  means  to  avert  the  calamity. 
The  animals  of  the  earth  also  held  a  council,  and  they  were 
about  to  give  up  all  hopes  of  a  release,  when  a  small  animal 
stept  forth  and  avowed  its  intention  of  gnawing  off  the  string 
that  held  the  sun.  He  entered  the  earth,  and  after  travelling 
a  long  time,  finally  reached  the  desired  planet  and  accom- 
plished his  purpose.  The  heat  of  the  sun,  however,  was  so 
great,  that  the  sight  of  the  heroic  little  animal  was  impaired, 
and  it  returned  to  the  earth — a  poor  blind  mole. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

In  my  Canoe,  July,  1846. 

Winnipeg  is  the  first  lake  ofimportance  which  the  trav- 
eller passes  through  on  his  way  up  the  Mississippi  from  Crow- 
Wing,  and  it  is  a  namesake  of  the  great  northern  lake.     The 
banks   of  the   river    throughout   this   long   distance  do  not 
average  more  than  about  ten   feet  in  height,  and  are  all  the 
way  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  trees,  where  the  birch, 
the  elm,  the  pine,  and  the  spruce  mostly  predominate.     It  is 
so  exceedingly  winding  here,   that  by  making  a  portage  of 
fifteen  rods,  you  may  often  save  some  three  or  four  miles  of 
canoe  travel.     The   stream  varies   from  an  eighth  to  half  a 
mile  in  width  ;  sometimes  shallow  and  rapidly  running  over 
a  rocky  bed,  sometimes  widening  into  a  shallow   lake,   and 
sometimes  deep,  and  running  sluggishly  through  a  soil  of 
clay  or  sand,  and  almost  blocked  up  with  snags. 

The  meaning  of  Winibigoshish,  or  Winnipeg,  is,  the 
grand  reservoir,  or  depot  of  water.  The  lake  is  fifteen 
miles  in  length  and  perhaps  ten  in  width.  It  is  nearly 
round,  has  no  islands,  but  a  gravelly  and  sandy  bottom,  and 
is  surrounded  by  a  handsome  beach  ;  the  water  is  clear  and 
shallow,  and  it  contains  no  fish  but  those  that  I  have  else- 
where mentioned  as  peculiar  to  this  section  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. The  surrounding  country  is  a  dead  level,  composed 
of  continuous  woods,  which  are  every  where  interspersed 
with  lakes  and  rice  swamps,  where  unnumbered  waterfowl 
have  lived  and  multiplied  for  centuries. 

5 


86  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


The  only  inhabitants   that  we  found  on  the    shores  of 
Winnipeg,  were  three  bands  of  Chippeways,  numbering  in 
all  about  one  thousand  souls.     We  pitched  our  tent  in  the 
midst  of  their  encampment,  or  village,  and   managed,  so  far 
as  I  was  concerned,  to  spend  a  day  and  night  among  them 
quite  pleasantly.     Immediately  on  my  arrival  there,  I  heard 
something  about  a  contemplated  bear  hunt.     It  happened  to 
be  the  month  when  this   animal  performs  its  annual  journey 
to  the  south,  whence  it  returns  in  October.     A  number  of 
them  had   already  been    killed,   and  there  was  a  crossing 
place  on  the  Mississippi,  where  a  good  marksman  might  take 
one  almost  at  any  time.     I  found  that  there  were   but  two 
men  going  on  the  hunt,  and,  as  a  present  of  tobacco  soon 
initiated  me  into  their  good  graces,  the  party  of  course  was 
increased  to  three.     We  started  at  sunset  and  descended  to 
the  crossing  place  in  a  canoe,  where  we  ambushed  ourselves 
in  one  of  the  wildest  recesses  in  the  forest,  seated  on  a  mossy 
rock  that  commanded  an  opening  between  the   trees,  while 
our  canoe  was  hidden  by  a  willow  that  bent  gracefully  over 
the  stream.     It  was  a  clear,  still  night,  but   quite  dark,  as 
there  was  no  moon.     Here  we  spent   a  number  of  hours, 
without   uttering  a  word  ;    but  listening  meanwhile  to  the 
dismal  shriek  of  an  owl,  or  the  silvery  dropping  of  the  dew 
on  the  gently  flowing   river.     Finally,  however,  one  of  the 
Indians  tapped  me   on   the   shoulder,  and  pointed  to  a  large 
black   object,  which  I  saw  was  a  bear  just  wading  into  the 
water,   directly   on  the  opposite   side  from   where  we  were 
seated.     I  had   been   told  not  to   fire   until   the   signal   was 
given,  and  so  the  following  five  minutes  seemed  longer  than 
an  ordinary  hour,  to  my  impatient  mind.     The  bear  took  it 
quite   leisurely,  not  dreaming  that  an  enemy  was  so  near. 
But  just  as  his  feet  touched  the  bottom  on  our  side  of  the 
stream,  the  Indians  gave  me  a  nod,  and  raising  our  several 
guns,  we  all  three  fired  at  the  poor  animal,  who  dropped  into 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  87 


the  \\  ator  quite  dead,  creating  around  him  a  crimson  pool. 
We  shipped  the  animal  on  board  the  canoe,  paddled  to  the 
village,  and  hanging  it  on  the  high  limb  of  a  tree,  retired  to 
our  several  wigwams  and  slept  until  morning. 

On  making  my  appearance  among  the  Indians  after 
breakfast,  I  found  that  I  was  to  witness  the  ceremony  which 
invariably  follows  the  capture  of  a  bear.  I  ought  to  remark 
in  this  place,  that  the  animal  in  question  was  supposed  by 
Morrison  to  weigh  three  hundred  pounds.  The  Indian  who 
had  first  touched  the  bear  with  his  hand,  (according  to  a 
universal  custom  among  the  Chippeways,)  was  the  one  who 
claimed  it  as  his  own.  When  he  had  taken  off  the  skin,  he 
presented  it  to  a  brother  hunter,  who  from  that  moment  con- 
sidered himself  under  obligations  to  return  the  compliment 
at  the  earliest  moment  after  his  next  successful  hunt.  The 
animal  was  then  dressed,  and  the  four  quarters  hung  up  in 
our  hunter's  wigwam,  that  being  the  only  portion  allotted  to 
him  by  custom ;  while  the  head,  back-bone,  and  ribs,  the 
feet,  the  heart,  liver,  and  fat,  were  all  served  up  for  a  feast. 
A  red  feather  was  then  sent  to  all  the  principal  men  in  the 
village  as  an  invitation,  which  they  understood  to  be  to  a 
bear  feast,  while  the  common  class  of  men  were  verbally 
invited,  women  and  children  being  denied  the  privilege  of 
participating.  At  the  appointed  hour  the  guests  made  their 
appearance,  in  a  neighboring  grove,  each  one  carrying  in 
his  hand  a  wooden  bowl  or  dish.  After  they  were  com- 
fortably seated  in  a  large  circle,  a  bag  of  ka-nick-a-nick 
and  tobacco  was  circulated,  and  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke 
ascended  to  the  sky, — for  the  Indians  invariably  commence 
their  ceremonies  by  smoking.  The  next  step  was  to  place 
upon  a  fire  in  their  midst  a  large  kettle  containing  the  rem- 
nants of  the  bear,  which  were  to  be  boiled  to  a  kind  of 
soup,  without  the  least  particle  of  seasoning.  While 
this  was  cooking,  one  of  the  orators  of  the  day  delivered  a 


88  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

speech,  wherein  he  thanked  the  Great  Spirit  for  telling  his 
red  children  where  to  find  the  bear,  and  concluding  with 
some  remarks  upon  the  characteristics  of  the  animal.  When 
the  bear  chowder  was  done,  it  was  equally  distributed 
among  the  assembled  crowd,  and  each  one  required  to  eat 
the  whole  that  was  placed  before  him,  and  this  too  without 
a  ladle  or  lifting  his  dish,  but  on  his  hands  and  knees  in  the 
common  attitude  of  a  bear.  The  bones  were  then  all  re- 
placed in  the  kettle  and  deposited  in  some  safe  place;  to 
neglect  this  part  of  the  ceremony  would  be  to  anger  the 
Great  Spirit,  who  would  not  allow  the  giver  of  the  feast  to 
kill  another  bear. 

Among  the  stories  which  I  heard  at  Lake  Winnipeg,  was 
the  following, — given  to  me  by  an  aged  chief  as  a  fact,  but 
which  I  cannot  consider  in  another  light  than  as  a  legend.  It 
illustrates,  however,  the  influence  of  dreams  upon  the  savage 
mind.  An  Indian  named  Otneagance  (Little  Shoulder), 
while  hunting  after  deer,  on  a  cold  winter  day,  came  to  the 
margin  of  this  lake,  where  he  built  a  fire  and  spent  the  night. 
He  had  a  dream,  and  thought  that  he  was  crawling  under 
ground,  for  the  purpose  of  rescuing  a  human  being  from 
death.  On  opening  his  eyes  in  the  morning,  he  was  greatly 
surprised  to  see  a  woman  on  the  ice  a  short  distance  off. 
She  was  standing  near  an  air-hole,  and  wailing  on  account 
of  her  child,  a  little  boy,  who  had  fallen  through  and  must 
inevitably  perish.  Soon  as  the  hunter  heard  the  woman's 
story,  he  dove  into  the  hole,  saw  the  child  a  great  distance 
off,  holding  out  its  hands,  swam  to  it,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
placed  it  in  its  mother's  arms — alive.  "  And  yonder,"  said 
the  chief,  pointing  to  a  little  mound,  "  is  the  resting  place  of 
that  good  mother,  and  before  you  stands  that  boy — changed 
to  a  trembling  reed.  As  to  my  saviour,  Otneagance,  he  has, 
for  many  moons,  been'aj-esident  in  the  Hunting  Grounds  of 
the  Blessed." 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  89 

Speaking  of  the  dead  reminds  me  of  the  Winnipeg  grave- 
yard. The  Chippeway  mode  of  treating  their  dead,  is  to  en- 
velop the  body  of  their  friend  in  a  bark  box,  which  they  expose 
upon  a  scaffolding,  supported  by  four  poles,  and  surmounted 
with  a  piece  of  skin  or  cloth  as  a  flag.  After  the  body 
has  remained  there  until  all  decomposition  is  at  an  end,  they 
then  bury  the  bones,  placing  at  the  head  of  the  grave  a  portion 
of  the  best  food  at  that  time  in  their  possession.  They  after- 
wards cover  the  hillock  with  bark,  somewhat  after  the  manner 
of  a  roof,  leaving  at  one  end  a  little  window  or  door,  for  the 
departed  spirit  to  enter,  when  it  comes  to  take  away  its  bones, 
on  a  certain  mysterious  day,  to  which  the  living  all  look  for- 
ward with  reverence.  When  a  friend  dies,  for  one  whole 
year  thereafter  they  place  food  and  tobacco  periodically  upon 
his  grave ;  and  all  the  articles  that  he  left  behind  are  vene- 
rated and  cherished,  as  if  endowed  with  life.  Their  manner 
of  mourning  for  the  dead  ordinarily  is,  to  paint  their  faces 
black,  but  when  their  friend  is  taken  away  by  violence,  they 
wail  and  mutilate  their  bodies.  It  is  a  part  of  their  religion 
to  protect  from  sacrilege  and  exposure  the  remains  of  their 
departed  friends,  and  the  survivors  are  constantly  repairing 
every  ruin  that  accident  or  time  may  bring  upon  the  graves 
of  their  kindred.  The  grave-city  that  attracted  my  attention 
at  Winnipeg,  consisted  of  seventy-six  bark  houses  like  those 
that  I  have  described.  In  fifty-two  of  them  reposed  the  ashes 
of  fourteen  families  who  were  butchered,  at  midnight,  by  a 
Sioux  war  party.  In  five  of  them  were  buried  a  mother  and 
four  daughters,  who  lost  their  lives  while  fishing  on  the  lake, 
in  frail  canoes,  that  were  swamped  by  a  sudden  storm.  In 
seventeen  of  them  lay  the  remains  of  as  many  warriors  who 
were  attacked  by  a  Sioux  party  of  two  hundred, — they  fought 
in  a  single  trench,  for  one  whole  day,  but  were  finally  over- 
come and  destroyed. 

The  melancholy  impression  which  these  brief  facts  left 


90  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

upon  my  mind,  as  I  stood  in  that  wilderness  grave-yard,  I 
could  not  easily  dissipate.  What  a  strange  contrast  in  every 
particular  did  it  present  to  the  grave-yards  of  the  civilized 
world !  Not  one  of  all  this  multitude  had  died  in  peace,  or 
with  a  knowledge  of  the  true  God.  Here  were  no  sculptured 
monuments,  no  names,  no  epitaphs  ;— nothing  but  solitude 
and  utter  desolation, 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Iv  MY  CaHOS,   July,  1816. 

Red  Cedar  Lake  is  the  sheet  of  water  Mr.  Schoolcraft  has 
attempted  to  name  after  a  distinguished  friend ;  I  say  attempted, 
because  the  Indians  and  traders  of  the  northwest  do  not  recog- 
nize his  change.  I  agree  with  them  in  the  opinion  that  it  is  not 
right  for  travellers  to  glorify  themselves  or  friends  by  attempt- 
ing to  supplant  with  their  own,  the  original  and  appropriate 
names  that  belong  to  the  rivers  and  lakes  of  our  land.  If  the 
ambitious  can  discover  nameless  wonders,  they  will  then  be 
privileged  to  use  them  in  extending  their  reputations. 

Red  Cedar  Lake  takes  its  Indian  name  from  the  tree  that 
mostly  abounds  upon  its  shores.  It  appears  to  contain  but 
little  more  water  than  Winnipeg,  but  it  has  near  its  centre  a 
large  island,  which  causes  it  to  appear  much  larger  on  the 
map.  It  has  a  great  many  bays  and  several  islands  ;  has  a 
sandy  bottom  and  fine  beach  ;  is  shallow,  clear,  and  yields  a 
small  white  fish,  a  few  trout,  and  the  plebeian  varieties  lure- 
after  mentioned  as  native  to  the  Mississippi.  The  shores 
of  this  lake  are  gently  undulating,  and  must  have  been 
originally  quite  beautiful  ;  but  when  I  was  there  it  was  al- 
most without  inhabitants,  and  the  places  where  once  stood 
large  clusters  of  wigwams,  were  covered  with  bare  poles 
and  ashes,  and  presented  a  most  desolate  appearance.  The 
only  family  that  I  saw,  was  composed  of  a  widow  and  her 
children,  whose  father  had  died  two  winters  ago,  while  cross- 
ing the  lake  on  his  return  from  a  hunting  expedition.     II 


92  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

perished  from  cold  and  hunger,  while  in  full  view  of  the 
cabin  which  sheltered  his  wife  and  children.  And  here, 
more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  a  really  comfortable  dwell- 
ing, lived  this  unfortunate  widow — ignorant,  destitute,  and 
without  friends.  The  story  which  she  told  me,  and  the 
wretched  picture  that  her  condition  presented,  kept  me  from 
inquiring  into  the  legendary  lore  of  this  lake,  so  that  I  spent 
my  only  evening  there,  listening  to  the  desultory  conversa- 
tion of  my  friend  Morrison.  The  facts  which  I  then  gathered 
are  now  subjoined. 

The  entire  region  watered  by  the  unnumbered  lakes  of 
the  Upper  Mississippi,  including  Superior  and  Michigan,  is 
now  inhabited  by  the  Chippeway  nation.  The  most  of  it 
they  have  acquired  by  right  of  conquest,  and  principally 
from  the  Sioux  nation,  which  is  the  principal  cause  that  has 
so  often  deluged  this  territory  with  blood.  Their  idea  of  the 
creation  is  as  follows.  Originally,  when  the  globe  (as  they 
suppose)  was  an  entire  mass  of  water,  the  only  living  crea- 
ture that  existed  was  an  immense  bird,  from  whose  eyes 
glanced  the  lightning,  and  whose  voice  was  thunder.  It  so 
happened  that  this  creature  was  oppressed  with  solitude,  and 
having  touched  the  water  with  its  wings,  the  continents  im- 
mediately appeared  ;  and  from  the  beams  of  the  stars  were 
born  the  first  race  of  men,  and  from  the  winds  all  the  animals 
of  the  earth.  The  Chippeways  universally  acknowledge  the 
existence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  whom  they  call  Kitchi-Mani- 
tou,  which  signifies  Great  Spirit,  and  they  reverence  this  Be- 
ing as  one  from  whom  nothing  but  good  can  proceed.  They 
also  believe  in  an  Evil  Spirit,  called  Matcho-Manitou,  who 
is  a  hater  of  all  men,  and  the  source  of  every  misery.  They 
also  believe  in  a  great  number  of  spirits  of  more  limited 
power  than  the  above  ;  and  they  have  one  of  these  for  the 
sun  and  moon,  for  every  lake,  river,  and  mountain,  of  any 
note ;  and  for  every  season  of  the  year,  as  well  as  for  every 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  93 


beast,  bird,  fish,  reptile,  and  insect,  that  may  have  acquired 
a  reputation  among  them.  To  all  of  these  are  they  in  the 
habit  of  making  offerings,  which  are  as  various  as  the  spirits 
themselves.  Death,  with  them,  is  always  looked  upon  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  a  blessing.  When  a  good  man  dies 
they  suppose  that  he  is  taken  across  a  certain  river  into  a 
land  of  perpetual  sunshine,  of  beautiful  woods,  streams,  and 
prairies,  where  every  variety  of  game  is  always  at  hand,  and 
fruit  upon  every  tree  ;  where  they  will  have  nothing  to  do  but 
love  each  other,  and  live  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  peace. 
When  a  bad  man  dies,  he  is  compelled  to  attempt  to  cross 
another  river  on  a  bridge  of  reeds,  through  which  he  inevit- 
ably falls  into  the  angry  waters,  which  are  sure  to  transport 
him  to  a  distant  country,  which  is  barren,  always  covered 
with  snow,  and  very  cold.  He  is  to  live  there  in  a  state  of 
perpetual  hunger,  eternally  shivering  under  the  influence 
of  biting  winds. 

Their  manner  of  winning  the  title  of  a  Brave,  when 
there  is  no  chance  of  distinguishing  themselves  in  war,  as  at 
the  present  time,  is  to  retire  into  a  lonely  nook  in  the  woods, 
where  they  remain  for  six  days  without  a  particle  of  food. 
While  there,  they  commemorate  each  day  by  making  a  notch 
on  a  stick,  and  when  they  finally  make  their  appearance  in  the 
village,  with  a  stick  of  six  notches,  they  are  welcomed  as 
accomplished  warriors.  They  are  trained,  almost  from  the 
hour  of  their  birth,  to  endure  every  possible  hardship,  which 
ever  makes  them  superior  to  a  sense  of  suffering  or  fear  of 
death.  And  the  two  great  objects  which  prompt  them  to  all 
this,  are,  that  they  may  be  able  always  to  protect  their  rela- 
tives and  friends  from  harm,  and  to  shield  their  country  from 
every  aggression.  It  is  a  part  of  their  religion  to  revenge 
every  wrong,  and  when  their  terrible  passions  are  roused, 
nothing  but  blood  can  stop  them  in  their  march  of  cruelty. 
This  trait  is  inherent  in  their  nature,  even  as  as  the  taste  of 

5* 


94  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


blood  will  whet  the  appetite  of  the  leopard  and  lion. — and  I 
know  not  that  the  Divine  Will,  in  its  wisdom,  would  have  this 
state  of  things  altered.  If  otherwise,  it  were  reasonable 
to  expect  that  the  hand  of  God  would  fall  heavily  upon  the 
white  man,  for  placing  the  yoke  of  a  most  bitter  oppression 
upon  the  unhappy  Indian  tribes.  Many  of  the  vices  which 
were  once  almost  hidden  in  their  simple  natures,  have  been 
ripened  into  full  maturity  by  the  example  and  allurements 
of  their  civilized  brethren.  They  deeded  to  us  their  beauti- 
ful domains,  and  we  have  recompensed  them  with  a  cup  of 
poison,  and  the  deadly  principles  of  infidelity.  And  yet  we 
(as  a  people)  think  it  just  and  charitable  to  speak  of  the 
poor  Indian  with  a  curse  upon  our  lips. 

The  following  is  an  outline  of  the  Indian's  manner  of 
life.  In  November  he  enters  his  hunting  grounds.  After 
remaining  in  one  place  until  he  can  find  no  more  game,  he 
removes  to  another  a  few  miles  off,  and  so  continues  until  the 
whole  region  is  explored  and  the  winter  months  are  gone. 
Early  in  March  he  settles  his  family  in  the  maple  forests, 
and  while  his  wife  and  children  are  left  to  make  sugar,  he  en- 
ters alone  upon  his  spring  hunt.  Returning  in  May,  he  takes 
his  family  and  pitches  his  tent  in  the  vicinity  of  the  various 
military  establishments  and  trading  houses  of  the  wilderness, 
where  he  spends  the  summer  months,  feasting,  gaming,  and 
idling  away  his  time.  In  September  he  plucks  his  corn  and 
gathers  his  wild  rice,  and  in  October  prepares  himself  for 
the  approaching  winter  hunt.  In  the  winter  they  rove  about 
in  companies  of  about  five  families,  but  in  summer  they  con- 
gregate in  villages. 

A  few  words  as  to  their  ideas  of  marriage.  Each  man 
is  allowed  to  have  as  many  wives  as  he  can  support,  and  it 
is  a  singular  fact  that  they  invariably  live  together  in  the 
greatest  harmony.  Those  that  are  young  and  have  no  chil- 
dren are  compelled  to  act  (and  they  do  it  willingly)  as  ser- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  95 

vants  to  those  who  arc  mothers.  It  is  also  true  that  some  of 
them  are  allowed  to  retain  their  virginity  until  death. 
Though  the  Chippeways  are  permitted  by  their  customs  to 
have  a  number  of  wives,  they  are  generally  so  poor  that  the 
majority  of  them  have  only  one.  When  a  young  man  fan- 
cies himself  in  love,  he  invites  two  or  three  of  his  compan- 
ions to  go  with  him,  and  they  pay  a  visit  to  the  loved  one's  lodge. 
During  this  visit  not  one  word  is  uttered  by  the  guests,  and 
when  they  depart  the  Indian  lady  is  left  in  doubt  as  to  the 
particular  one  who  thus  commences  his  loving  attack.  On 
the  succeeding  evening,  the  lover  performs  his  visit  alone. 
When  he  enters,  if  the  lady  speaks  to  him,  he  is  accepted ; 
if  not,  he  is  rejected.  If  the  father  ofFers  him  a  lighted 
pipe,  it  is  a  sign  that  his  consent  is  granted  ;  if  he  does  not, 
and  keeps  silent,  it  is  understood  that  the  young  man  must 
not  persevere.  When  accepted,  the  lover  makes  some  rich 
presents  to  the  father  and  mother,  and  the  lovers  are  consid- 
ered husband  and  wife.  Until  the  bride  becomes  a  mother, 
she  resides  in  her  father's  lodge,  and  all  the  game  that  the 
young  hunter  kills,  is  given  to  his  w  ife's  parents,  but  the 
furs  to  his  wife.  After  this,  the  young  woman  packs  up  her 
apparel,  w  Inch  is  usually  her  whole  fortune,  and  takes  up 
her  residence  with  her  husband  in  a  new  lodge.  Divorces 
among  the  Chippeways  are  hardly  ever  known,  and  adultery 
is  considered  a  heinous  crime,  and  always  punished  with  the 
greatest  severity. 

Travelling  among  the  Chippeways  may  be  considered  a 
good  deal  safer  than  it  is  among  the  half  savage  inhabitants 
of  the  frontier.  The  most  dangerous  to  deal  with,  are  the 
young  men,  who,  in  civilized  society,  would  be  called 
"snobs."  They  arc  idle,  haughty,  and  revengeful,  and  the 
only  right  way  to  treat  them  is  with  the  utmost  coldness. 
Allow  them  to  be  familiar,  and   they  will  soon   be  impudenl 


96  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


and  overbearing.  Unlike  civilized  barbarians,  those  of  the 
wilderness  know  not  what  it  is  to  use  profane  language. 
When  they  have  reason  to  despise  a  man,  they  call  him  a 
bad  dog ;  and  when  they  have  chastised  such  an  one,  they 
wear  a  skunk  skin  at  one  of  their  heels  as  a  memento 
of  the  mean  man's  disgrace. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Chippeways  is  proverbial.  When 
a  stranger  enters  their  cabin,  he  is  invited  to  a  seat  on  their 
best  mat,  and  always  treated  with  the  very  best  that  they 
possess  in  the  way  of  food.  Visit  a  chief  at  an  untimely 
hour,  at  midnight  for  example,  and  he  will  arise,  stir  up  his 
fire,  and  give  you  a  pipe  with  all  the  air  and  politeness  of  a 
polished  gentleman.  Call  upon  him,  when  you  know  that  he 
has  reason  to  consider  you  his  enemy,  and  he  will  not  tell 
you  to  leave  his  wigwam,  but  it  may  be  that  in  an  unguard- 
ed moment,  when  in  your  own  lodge,  he  will  cleave  your 
skull  with  a  tomahawk.  They  are  also  exceedingly  affec- 
tionate,  and  do  every  thing  in  their  power  to  make  their 
children  happy.  When  a  party  of  them  are  in  a  state  of 
starvation,  and  one  individual  happens  to  have  a  bear  or  deer, 
he  will  distribute  it  equally  at  a  feast.  They  treat  their  in- 
firm people  with  tender  care ;  and  never  refuse  to  present  to 
a  brother  Indian  any  pipe,  weapon,  or  ornament  that  may 
have  been  solicited.  They  extend  the  same  civility  to  all 
white  men  whom  they  esteem.  As  the  Chippeway  country 
is  mostly  covered  with  a  dense  forest,  this  people  are  un- 
acquainted with  the  use  of  the  horse.  Their  mode  of  hunt- 
ing the  buffalo  has  always  been  to  drive  them  over  bluffs, 
or  to  shoot  them  while  disguised  in  the  skin  of  a  wolf  or 
buffalo.  Their  only  vehicle  is  the  birchen  canoe,  so  fa- 
mous for  its  beautiful  model,  its  frailty  and  feathery  light- 
ness. The  bark  of  the  birch,  out  of  which  it  is  made,  is 
found  in  great  abundance  throughout  their  entire  territory, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  97 


ami  they  use  it,  not  only  for  canoes,  but  for  their  lodges, 
their  grave-houses,  their  baskets,  their  mocucks,  their  dishes, 
and  exquisitely  worked  boxes,  which  they  dispose  of  as  cu- 
riosities. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

In  my  Canoe,  July,  1846. 

Elk  or  Itasca  Lake  is  the  fountain  head  of  the  Mississip- 
pi. It  is  thought  to  be  almost  three  thousand  miles  from  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico  and  two  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
Atlantic.  It  is  a  small  sheet  of  water,  about  five  miles 
long,  one  to  two  miles  wide,  and  contains  only  one  island, 
which  lies  directly  in  the  centre.  The  first  traveller  who 
visited  the  lake  wras  Henry  R.  Schoolcraft,  after  whom  the 
island  has  been  justly  named.  On  the  south  side  is  a  ridge 
of  wood-crowned  hills,  which  give  birth  to  tiny  streams,  that 
eventually  empty  their  waters  into  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
oceans.  The  whole  region  on  the  north  is  woody,  low  and 
marshy.  The  water  is  clear,  deep,  and  full  of  fish  ;  the 
bottom  gravelly  ;  and  the  entire  shore  covered  with  reeds  and 
rushes.  The  trees  which  abound  here  are  the  pine,  oak, 
elm,  maple,  birch,  and  poplar  ;  and  the  fish  are  principally 
the  trout,  pike,  and  black  bass.  The  Mississippi  when  it 
leaves  this  lake  is  only  about  twenty  feet  wide,  but  after  pass- 
ing through  a  great  number  of  lakes  it  spreads  itself  out  to 
the  width  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  empties  into  Red 
Cedar  Lake.  This  portion  of  the  Great  River  might  well 
be  likened  to  the  infant  Hercules,  for  it  is  the  master  of 
every  thing  around  it,  and  rambles  onward  as  if  conscious 
of  its  dawning  power.  Upon  the  whole,  however,  it  is  through 
a  cheerless  wilderness. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS,  99 


The  region  of  Elk  Lake  was  once  famous  for  the  num- 
ber of  its  animals,  and  derives  its  name  from  the  following 
legend  of  a  mammoth  Elk.  This  creature  is  said  to  have 
measured  the  length  of  two  large  canoes,  and  with  his  horns 
had  power  to  split  a  pine  tree.  His  lair  was  in  a  valley 
among  the  neighboring  hills,  where  he  reigned  supreme  ; 
and  it  was  customary  for  all  the  animals  of  the  north,  which 
were  of  giant  size  in  those  days,  to  make  him  an  annual 
visit.  As  they  were  so  numerous,  they  were  compelled  to 
occupy  the  country  for  many  miles  around,  which  accounts 
for  its  excessive  flatness.  The  object  of  this  "  world's  con- 
vention  "  was  to  consult  the  king  of  beasts  as  to  the  forests 
and  plains  they  were  to  occupy  during  the  following  year; 
and  to  partake  of  the  water  of  the  small  lake,  which  had 
power  to  protect  them  from  every  disease  or  accident,  and 
such  was  the  state  of  things,  when  an  enemy  made  its  ap- 
pearance, and  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Elk  was  ended. 

Those  were  the  days  when  giants  inhabited  the  earth,  and 
the  region  where  most  they  congregated  was  in  the  far  South. 
It  so  happened  that  a  hunting  party  of  these  people  wandered 
to  the  North,  and  finally  pitched  their  tents  in  the  vicinity  of 
this  lake.  Among  the  animals  they  succeeded  in  killing 
was  the  Mammoth  Elk,  which  they  found  asleep,  and 
pierced  with  a  poisoned  arrow.  The  heavens  were  immedi- 
ately filled  with  clouds,  a  heavy  rain  deluged  the  earth,  and 
with  their  booty,  in  melancholy  mood,  the  hunters  started  on 
their  return.  The  rain  was  so  abundant  that  the  lake  over- 
flowed its  banks,  forming  a  little  stream,  which  finally  wi- 
dened into  a  broad  river,  and  emptied  into  an  unknown  sea ; 
and  on  the  bosom  of  this  river  did  the  hunters  float  in  their 
newly  made  canoes,  until  they  found  themselves  in  their  own 
country.  The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was,  that  from 
that  year  all  the  animals  of  the  earth   began   to  dwindle  in 


100  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

size,  and  the  men  of  that  time  were  reduced  in  stature  to  the 
height  of  their  younger  children. 

A  more  suggestive  legend  than  the  above  I  have  seldom 
heard.  To  my  mind,  it  illustrates  the  poetical  genius  of  the 
Indian,  and  throws  much  light  upon  the  history  of  the  Mound 
Builders.  I  obtained  it  from  the  lips  of  an  old  Indian  hermit, 
as  I  sat' in  his  solitary  lodge,  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  hills 
which  look  down  upon  Elk  Lake. 

On  the  summits  of  those  hills  I  spent  a  number  of  days, 
pondering  upon  the  strange  wild  scenery  which  surrounded 
me.  At  one  time  I  revelled  over  a  morning  landscape. 
The  sun  had  just  risen  above  an  ocean  of  forests,  and  the 
sky  was  echoing  with  a  thousand  strains  of  melody.  Earth 
was  awake,  and  clothed  in  her  fresh  green  garment.  The 
mists  had  left  the  long  low  valleys,  and  revealed  to  the  open 
sky  winding  rivers  and  lakes  of  surpassing  loveliness.  Every 
thing  was  laughing  with  joy  under  the  glorious  influence  of 
the  summer  sun. 

The  elk  and  the  deer  were  cropping  their  morning  re- 
past,  with  the  dew-showers  trickling  from  their  sides.  Grace- 
fully did  the  smoke  curl  upward  from  an  Indian  village. 
The  hunters  were  preparing  for  the  chase.  I  saw  them  enter 
their  canoes,  silently  glide  down  a  river,  and  finally  lose 
themselves  among  the  islands  of  a  vast  swamp.  None  were 
left  in  that  village  but  women  and  children.  While  the 
former  busied  themselves  in  their  rude  occupations,  the  latter 
were  sporting  in  the  sunshine,  some  shooting  at  a  target, 
some  leaping,  some  swimming,  and  others  dancing. 

A  rushing  sound  now  fell  upon  my  ear  from  a  neighbor- 
ing thicket.  It  was  a  wounded  moose  that  had  sought  ref- 
uge from  a  hunter.  The  arrow  had  pierced  his  heart,  and, 
like  an  exiled  monarch,  he  had  come  here  to  die.  He 
writhed  and  bounded  in  agony.  One  effort  more,  and  all  was 
still.     The  noisy  raven  was  now  to  feed  upon  those  delicately 


ST'MMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  101 


formed  limbs,  and  pluck  from  their  sockets  those  eyes, 
which  were  of  late  so  brilliant  and  full  of  fire.  But  after  all, 
lovely,  lovely  indeed,  was  that  morning  landscape  of  the  path- 
less wilderness. 

At  one  time  I  gazed  upon  a  noontide  panorama.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  was  stirring,  and  the  atmosphere  was  hot  and 
sultry.  The  leaves  and  the  green  waves  of  the  distant  prai- 
rie were  motionless.  The  birds  were  tired  of  singing,  and 
had  sought  the  shadowy  recesses  of  the  wood.  The  deer  was 
quenching  his  thirst  in  some  nameless  stream,  or  panting 
with  heat  in  some  secluded  dell.  On  an  old  dry  tree,  whose 
giant  arms  stretched  upward  as  if  to  grasp  the  clouds,  a  soli- 
tary bald  eagle  had  perched  himself.  It  was  too  hot  even 
for  him  to  enjoy  a  bath  in  the  upper  air  ;  but  presently,  as  if 
smitten  with  a  new  thought,  he  spread  out  his  broad  pinions, 
and  slowly  ascended  to  the  zenith, — whence  I  fancied  that 
the  glance  of  his  keen  eyes  could  rest  upon  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific.  The  butterfly  and  wild  bee  were  resting  on  the 
full-blown  flowers  ;  and  perfect  silence  was  in  the  Indian 
village.  The  children,  exhausted  with  heat  and  play,  had 
gone  to  lie  down,  some  in  their  cabins,  and  some  in  the  cool 
shadow  of  the  trees.  Earth  and  air  were  so  tranquil,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  nature  was  offering  up  a  prayer.  Winding 
far  away  to  the  south  was  the  Mississippi,  fading  away  to 
the   bending  sky. 

In  a  few  moments  a  little  cloud  had  obscured  the  sky. 
The  wind  was  rising,  and  was  followed  by  a  roaring  sound, 
— and  now  the  storm  was  spending  its  fury  upon  forest  and 
prairie.  The  dreadful  thunder  echoed  through  the  chambers 
of  the  firmament,  and  the  fiercest  lightnings  flashed  forth  their 
fire.  The  forests  were  bending  as  if  every  tree  would  break. 
An  old  oak,  which  stood  in  its  grandeur  upon  the  plain,  now 
lay  prostrate, — even  as  God  will  sometimes  dasli  to  the  earth 
some  proud  and  insolent  man.     The  parched  soil  was  deluged 


102  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

with  rain.  But  finally  the  storm  had  spent  its  fury,  and 
the  clouds,  like  a  routed  army,  were  passing  away  in  dire 
confusion.  A  rainbow  then  arched  the  heavens,  and  a  fresh 
but  gentle  breeze  was  fanning  my  cheek,  and  thrilling  my 
whole  being  with  rapture. 

I  also  looked  upon  this  wilderness  landscape  at  the  eve- 
ning hour.  As  the  sun  descended,  the  clouds  came  out  to 
meet  him,  decked  in  their  most  gorgeous  robes,  while  the 
evening  star  smiled  at  his  approach.  He  had  left  the  val- 
leys in  twilight,  and  I  knew  that  his  last  beams  were  gilding 
with  gold  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  moon  ascended  to  her 
throne ;  and  the  whippoorwill  had  commenced  her  evening 
hymn.  On  heavy  wings  a  swan  flew  past  me  ;  she  was  go- 
ing perhaps  to  her  home  on  the  margin  of  Hudson's  Bay.  A 
stir  was  in  the  Indian  village,  for  thev  had  returned  with 
their  canoes  loaded  with  game.  The  customary  festival  had 
commenced,  and  most  strangely  did  their  wild  music  sound, 
as  it  broke  on  the  surrounding-  solitude.  The  doe  had  gone 
to  her  grassy  couch,  the  feathered  multitudes  were  sleeping, 
and  the  mantle  of  perfect  silence  had  fallen  upon  the  world. 

It  was  now  midnight,  and  I  stood  in  the  centre  of  an  ap- 
parently boundless  wilderness  of  forests  and  prairies  ; — while 
far  away  to  the  northwest  reposed  a  range  of  hills,  which 
seemed  tome  like  a  vast  caravan  of  the  antediluvian  Mound 
Builders.  The  moon  had  compassed  the  heavens,  and  was 
near  her  setting.  A  thousand  stars  were  by  her  side.  She 
flooded  with  her  silver  beams  the  leaves,  the  waves,  and 
distant  hills.  Every  voice  within  the  Indian  village  was 
hushed.  The  warrior,  asleep  upon  his  mat,  was  dreaming 
of  a  new  victory  lost  or  won  ;  the  youth  was  dreaming  of 
the  dark-eyed  maiden  whom  he  loved  ;  and  the  child  was 
dreaming  of  the  toys  of  yesterday.  The  pale  face  had  not 
yet  trespassed  upon  their  rights ;  and  as  they  were  at  peace 
with  the  Great  Spirit,  they  were  contented  and  happy.    Holy 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  103 


and  impressive  was  the  hour.  The  wind  was  up,  and  wailed 
an  awful  anthem  as  it  swept  through  the  dark  pines.  It 
came  to  my  ear  like  the  death-wailings  of  a  world.  The 
owl  was  noiselessly  flying  from  tree  to  tree,  and  the  beautiful 
whippoorwill  was  sleeping.  The  splash  of  a  leaping  trout, 
or  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  were  the  only  sounds  which  fell  upon 
my  ear.  I  looked,  and  looked, — wondering,  wondering. 
And  when  T  retraced  my  journey  from  the  summit  of  the 
Elk  Hills  and  the  margin  of  Elk  Lake,  few  and  brief  were 
the  words  that  escaped  my  lips,  for  my  heart  was  oppressed 
with  the  majesty  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

In  my  Canoe,  July,  1846. 

Leech  Lake  lies  in  the  midst  of  a  forest,  mostly  composed 
of  pine,  maple,  oak,  elm,  and  tamarack.  It  is  supposed  to 
be  about  forty  miles  in  length,  and  perhaps  twenty  to  twenty- 
five  in  width.  Its  shores  are  very  irregular,  it  contains  a 
number  of  large  islands,  and  a  trading  post  of  some  anti- 
quity. It  derives  its  name  (Casagasque)  from  the  story, 
that  the  first  man  who  discovered  it,  saw  in  it  a  leech,  that 
was  wider  across  the  back  than  an  ordinary  Indian  mat.  It 
is  deep  and  clear,  has  a  sandy  bottom  and  shores,  and  is  far- 
famed  for  its  white  fish,  though  possessing  almost  every 
other  variety  in  great  abundance.  Three  of  its  most  promi- 
nent islands  are  known  by  the  names  of  the  Goose,  the 
Pelican,  and  the  Bear.  The  first  has  a  desolate  appear- 
ance, and  is  inhabited  only  by  immense  numbers  of  water- 
fowl ;  the  second  is  noted  for  its  fishing  grounds,  and  a 
certain  species  of  the  pelican  said  to  be  found  only  on  its 
shores  ;  and  the  third  has  a  good  soil,  is  thickly  wooded,  and 
somewhat  cultivated  by  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  own  the  lake, 
and  inhabit  the  surrounding  country. 

This  tribe  of  people  glory  in  the  name  of  Pillagers,  and 
are  fully  deserving  of  the  name.  If  they  happen  to  meet 
a  stranger  Indian  or  Trader,  each  one  will  unceremoniously 
help  himself  to  an  article  that  he  likes,  politely  remarking 
that  for  his  part  he  desires  nothing  more,  after  which  they 
feed   the   unfortunate   man   well,    but   let   him  depart   with 


SUMiMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1(K> 

nothing  but  a  blanket  or  jacket.  The  Pillagers  are  a  brave, 
proud,  and  warlike  people,  but  on  account  of  their  thieving 
peculiarity,  are  universally  hated  and  feared.  But  they 
are  good  hunters,  and  pay  more  attention  to  agriculture  than 
any  other  tribe  in  the  nation. 

During  my  stay  at  Leech  Lake  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  a  Medicine  Dance,  and  of  obtaining  some  infor- 
mation with  regard  to  the  Medicine  Society.  It  is  a  reli- 
gious rite,  and  practised  on  a  great  variety  of  occasions.  At 
this  time  the  dance  was  given  by  a  man  who  had  lost  a 
relative.  The  ceremony  commenced  at  twelve  o'clock  at 
night,  and  lasted  until  the  evening  of  the  following  day  ; 
and  such  a  perfect  mixture  of  ridiculous  dancing,  horrible 
yelling,  and  uncouth  dressing,  I  never  before  witnessed,  and 
never  wish  to  witness  again.  It  positively  seemed  as  if  all 
the  more  unearthly  creations  of  Dante  had  been  let  loose 
upon  the  earth,  and  had  sought  the  heart  of  the  wilderness, 
to  rejoice  at  their  freedom,  and  portray  the  miseries  of 
hell.  1  would,  but  cannot,  adequately  describe  the  scene, 
and  I  can  only  expect  my  more  imaginative  readers  to  obtain 
the  faintest  idea  of  its  strange,  strange  appearance. 

White  men  and  Indians  who  have  never  been  initiated 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  Grand  Medicine,  are  not  allowed 
to  be  present  during  the  first  part  of  the  celebration.  From 
what  I  have  seen  and  heard  about  it,  I  am  convinced  that  it 
is  nothing  in  the  world  but  an  Indian  and  savage  species  of 
Free-Masonry.  A  Medicine  man  would  sooner  die,  than 
divulge  the  secrets  of  his  order.  The  ceremony  on  the 
occasion  above  mentioned,  was  performed  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  deceased  ;  while  a  conversation  was  carried 
on  with  the  dead,  and  food  placed  by  its  side,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  living  and  hungry  individual.  Then  it  was  that 
their  medicine  bags  were  taken  out,  and  as  each  Indian  has 
a  certain   medicine,  or  preparation   which   he  supposes  his 


106  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


skin  to  possess,  he  attempts  to  manifest  its  virtues  on  this 
occasion.  By  breathing  into  the  nostrils  of  the  skin,  he 
imparts  to  it  a  particular  charm,  by  which  he  can  cure  the 
sick  or  destroy  his  enemies.  Hence  the  great  fear  that 
these  conjurers  inspire  in  all  others.  Medicine  men  support 
each  other  in  every  thing  they  may  happen  individually  to 
require,  even  to  the  murder  of  an  unfortunate  child.  When 
a  man  has  passed  the  highest  degree,  he  can  command  the 
services  of  his  brethren  for  any  purpose.  The  price  of 
admission  is  six  pieces  for  each  grade,  and  there  are  eight 
grades.  By  one  piece  they  mean  a  blanket,  a  pair  of  leg- 
gins,  a  knife,  a  gun,  or  any  other  useful  article.  The  man 
who  gives  the  most  expensive  pieces  is  highly  honored,  and 
can  make  the  largest  demands  upon  the  Society,  so  that  the 
older  members  obtain  quite  a  revenue  for  their  former 
expenditures.  When  they  wish  to  inform  a  distant  lodge  of 
the  faithlessness  of  a  member,  they  despatch  a  piece  of  tobac- 
co ;  the  guilty  man  is  always  known  and  never  admitted, 
but  when  they  prove  true,  their  membership  is  inherited. 
The  missionaries  of  the  west  are  inclined  to  believe  that  this 
Medicine  institution  is  the  grand  obstacle  to  the  promulga- 
tion of  the  Christian  Religion  among  the  Indians. 

I  also  witnessed  while  at  Leech  Lake  the  conclusion  of 
a  ceremony  that  was  commenced  some  weeks  before.  There 
had  been  a  Virgin  Dance,  the  prominent  features  of  which 
are  as  follows.  All  the  virgins  of  the  village  assemble  to- 
gether and  seat  themselves  in  a  larsre  circle.  In  the  midst 
of  this  company  are  collected  all  the  young  men  of  the  vil- 
lage, who  dance  for  the  amusement  of  the  ladies.  But  if  it 
so  happens  that  one  of  the  men  stops  suddenly  and  points 
his  finger  at  a  particular  girl,  she  is  at  once  looked  upon  as 
having  lost  her  virginity ;  if  the  charge  is  substantiated  the 
girl  is  disgraced,  but  if  not,  the  young  man  must  die.  The 
conclusion  that  I   alluded   to  was,   the   execution,    in    cold 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  107 

blood,  of  a  fine  looking  young  man  who  had  attempted,  with- 
out cause,  to  ruin  the  reputation  of  a  girl  by  whom  he  had 
been  rejected.  In  an  unguarded  moment  lie  had  been 
stabbed,  and  when  I  saw  him,  he  was  weltering  in  his  blood. 
It  was  a  most  terrible  exhibition  of  justice  and  cruelty,  and 
made  me  partly  admire  and  then  utterly  despise  the  charac- 
ter of  the  whole  Indian  race. 

While  I  was  at  this  lake  a  couple  of  trappers  made  their 
appearance  from  the  Red  River  wilderness,  where  they  had 
been  hunting  during  the  past  winter,  but  owing  to  an  ac- 
cident had  been  detained  from  returning  until  the  present 
time.  They  were  Half-Brceds,  and  as  wild  a  pair  of  beings 
as  I  ever  beheld.  Their  furs,  at  the  usual  prices,  would 
probably  bring  them  some  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  Their 
place  of  destination  was  St.  Louis,  where  each  one  had  a 
wife  and  children.  Their  intention  was  to  remain  with  their 
friends  until  November,  when  they  would  dive  into  the 
wilderness  again. 

I  only  heard  three  legends  at  Leech  Lake.  One  gives 
the  origin  of  a  certain  miniature  whirlpool,  which  may  be 
seen  on  the  south  side  of  the  lake.  A  couple  of  Chippeway 
women,  while  crossing  in  a  canoe,  were  pursued  by  Sioux 
Indians,  but  the  Lake  Spirit,  out  of  compassion  for  their  mis- 
fortune, struck  the  water  with  his  wings  and  opened  an  easy 
pathway  to  the  Spirit  Land.  The  second  story  is  about 
Pelican  Island.  It  is  said  that  no  Indian  ever  visited  it 
without  being  caught  in  a  storm  ;  and  that  it  has  for  cen- 
turies been  inhabited  by  strange  people.  They  were  never 
visible  excepting  from  the  main  shore,  for  when  the  island 
was  searched  no  tracks  or  wigwam-poles  could  be  seen, 
nothing  but  rocks,  grass,  and  reeds.  At  the  present  time, 
none  but  the  bravest  dare  land  upon  its  shore  with  their 
canoes. 

The  third  legend  that  I  heard  on  the  borders  of  this  lake 


106  sr:iMER  in  the  wilderness. 

was  about  a  famous  battle  once  fought,  between  the  gods  of 
the  white  man  and  the  red  man.  A  great  many  summers 
ago,  a  race  of  white  people  made  their  appearance  on  the 
shores  of  this  country,  and,  as  they  were  a  strange  people, 
the  red  men  of  the  wilderness  were  disposed  to  love  them. 
As  the  former  were  very  poor,  the  latter  presented  them 
with  a  few  acres  of  land  to  cultivate.  As  the  white  men  in- 
creased in  numbers,  they  craved  more  land,  but  the  red 
men  would  not  vield  to  their  extravagant  solicitations.  In 
the  mean  time  the  strange  people  were  becoming  powerful. 
In  process  of  time  the  Big  Manito  became  displeased  with 
them,  and  was  determined  that  this  usurpation  should  cease. 
He  visited  the  white  man's  god,  and  told  him  that  he  must 
take  back  his  ambitious  children.  The  white  man's  god 
replied  that  he  would  do  no  such  thing,  but  was  determined 
to  protect  his  own.  Manito  then  told  him  that  the  question 
must  be  decided  bv  battle.  A  famous  battle  was  fought, 
and  the  white  man's  god  triumphed.  He  took  Manito 
prisoner,  and  tied  him  to  an  oak  with  hickory  saplings,  but 
he  finally  made  his  escape,  and  with  his  children  took  up  his 
home  in  the  more  remote  wilderness. 

The  region  of  Leech  Lake  is  somewhat  famous  for  the 
quantity  and  good  quality  of  the  original  maize  or  Indian 
corn.  When  I  was  there  it  was  not  sufficiently  advanced 
to  be  eaten,  even  in  a  green  state,  but  I  obtained  a  fact  with 
regard  to  corn  planting,  which  may  be  new  to  my  readers. 
All  the  labor  connected  with  the  raising  of  corn  is  performed 
by  the  women,  who  take  it  upon  themselves  as  an  offset  to  the 
hardships  endured  by  the  men  in  hunting.  It  is  customary 
for  them  after  they  have  planted  the  seed,  to  perform,  in  a 
state  of  nuditv,  a  nocturnal  walk  through  the  field,  which 
ceremony  is  supposed  to  protect  the  grain  from  the  destroy- 
ing insect  or  worm. 

During  my  stay  at  this  lake  I  received   from  my  friend 


SUMMER    tit    THE    WILDERNESS.  109 

Morrison,  the  following  facts  with  regard  to  the  game  now 
inhabiting  this  region.  The  black  bear,  the  black  and  gray 
wolf,  the  elk,  the  rnoose,  and  the  deer,  the  otter,  the  mink, 
porcupine,  white  fisher,  fox,  the  coon,  the  martin,  the  rabbit 
and  a  variety  of  squirrels  are  as  abundant  as  ever ;  the 
grisly  bear  and  buffalo  are  found  only  occasionally  ;  and 
the  beaver  is  entirely  extinct.  Among  the  birds  that  I  saw 
were  eagles,  fish-hawks,  night-hawks,  owls,  loons,  the 
twan,  the  crane,  a  great  variety  of  ducks,  the  pigeon,  the 
woodpecker,  blue-jay,  black  and  blue-bird,  red-bird,  and  the 
king-bird  ;  and  among  the  fish  that  may  be  found  in  Leech 
Lake,  are  the  white-fish,  the  trout,  the  pike,  the  pickerel, 
the  bass,  the  sucker,  and  the  mullet.  It  is  said  the  white- 
fish  of  this  lake,  originated  from  the  brains  of  a  woman  ;  and 
I  am  also  told  that  its  shores  have  in  times  past  yielded  more 
wealth  in  the  way  of  furs  than  any  other  place  of  the  same 
extent  in  the  northwest.  But  enough.  It  is  time  that  I  should 
close  this  desultory  paper,  else  my  reader  will  accuse  me  of 
practising  the  most  prominent  peculiarity  of  the  animal 
Leech. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

In  my  Cakoe,  July,  1846. 

This  is  to  be  my  last  letter  from  the  Mississippi  valley, 
and  my  passion  for  the  gentle  art  of  angling,  will  not  allow 
me  to  leave  the  great  river  without  recounting  a  few  fishing 
paragraphs,  as  mementoes  of  my  journey  thus  far. 

The  largest  and  unquestionably  the  most  abundant  varie- 
ty of  fish  found  in  the  Lower  Mississippi  is  the  cat-fish,  and 
here  I  believe  they  are  found  in  the  greatest  perfection.  They 
vary  from  one  to  six  feet  in  length,  and  in  weight  from 
three  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  As  an  article  of  food 
they  do  not  amount  to  much,  and  yet  I  have  met  with  many 
people  who  considered  them  a  great  delicacy,  ^hey  are  in- 
variably taken  with  the  hook,  and  to  those  who  admire  muddy 
water,  and  love  to  handle  the  ugliest  of  creatures,  capturing 
them  must  be  a  fascinating  amusement.  They  are  caught 
and  eaten  at  all  seasons  of  the  year. 

Another  fish  which  abounds  in  the  turbid  portion  of  the 
Mississippi  is  called  by  the  western  people  a  perch,  but  is  in 
fact  only  a  sheep's-head.  They  are  most  abundant  in  the 
spring.  They  vary  from  one  to  eight  pounds  in  weight,  and 
as  an  article  of  food  are  about  on  a  par  with  cat-fish.  The 
above  mentioned  fish  are  the  principal  varieties  which  may 
be  said  to  flourish  in  the  Lower  Mississippi ;  it  is  true,  how- 
ever, that  specimens  of  almost  every  species  of  fresh  water 
fish  are  occasionally  taken.     The  baits  used  for  the  cat-fish 


SUMMER    IX    THE    WILDERNESS.  Ill 


and  sheep's-head  are  pieces  of  fresh  meat.  Almost  every 
steamboat  on  the  river  is  well  supplied  with  cotton  lines  and 
common  hooks,  and  the  principal  anglers  for  this  fish  are 
steamboat  hands  and  raftmen. 

But  I  must  confess  that  I  made  a  number  of  attempts  to 
capture  one  of  these  monsters.  The  adventure  took  place 
after  the  following  manner.  Our  boat  had  stopped  at  Alton 
in  the  evening,  and  was  to  remain  there  until  about  midniffht. 
The  river  was  without  a  ripple,  and  the  marvellous  beauty 
of  the  surrounding  landscape  threw  me  into  a  romantic  mood  ; 
and  tipping  the  wink  to  one  of  my  companions  to  accompany 
me,  we  took  an  assortment  of  tackle  with  about  two  pounds 
of  beef,  and  jumped  into  a  skifT  tor  an  hour's  sport.  We 
pulled  for  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  having  moored 
our  shallop  at  the  mouth  of  a  bayou,  baited  our  hooks,  and 
threw  them  in.  We  had  sat  in  silence  just  long  enough  to 
watch  the  shooting  into  darkness  of  a  star,  when  my  line  was 
suddenly  made  taught,  and  I  knew  that  I  had  a  prize.  I 
gave  the  fellow  about  one  hundred  feet  of  line,  and  he  made 
use  of  his  "largest  liberty  '  by  swimming  around  a  certain 
snag,  which  of  course  made  me  a  little  angry,  but  greatly 
increased  my  excitement.  I  managed,  however,  to  disentan- 
gle my  victim  after  a  while,  and  in  due  time  had  him  safely 
ensconced  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  His  length  was  nearly 
four  feet,  and  his  weight  must  have  been  upwards  of  sixty 
pounds.  While  we  were  recrossing  the  river  to  reach  our 
steamboat,  a  savage  little  steamer  from  Keokuck  came  rush- 
ing down,  ahead  of  another  with  which  it  was  racing,  and 
passed  so  very  near  our  shallop  that  we  were  swamped,  and 
while  my  companion  and  myself  were  swimming  to  the  shore 
for  dear  life,  the  monster  we  had  captured  was  probably 
scooting  away  towards  the  Torrid  Zone,  not  much  injured, 
but  a  good  deal  frightened.      About  two  hours  after  that  ad- 


112  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


venture,  I  was  the  victim  of  a  most  painful  nightmare,  for  I 
dreamed  that  I  was  dying  from  strangulation. 

Before  taking  my  leave  of  the  cat-fish  I  must  transcribe 
a  description  of  him  as  recorded  by  Father  Marquette  : — "  We 
saw  also  a  very  hideous  sea  monster ;  his  head  was  like  that 
of  a  tiger,  but  his  nose  was  somewhat  sharper,  and  like  a 
wild-cat ;  his  beard  was  long,  his  ears  stood  upright,  the 
color  of  his  head  being  gray  and  neck  black.  He  looked 
upon  us  for  some  time ;  but  as  we  came  near  him,  our  oars 
frightened  him  away."  This  is  about  as  near  the  truth  as 
Marquette  ever  arrived,  but  every  one  acquainted  with  the 
cat-fish  of  the  Mississippi  will  readily  perceive  the  resem- 
blance of  the  description  to  the  original. 

I  would  now  descant  upon  the  fish  of  the  Upper  Mississip- 
pi. The  largest  is  the  sturgeon,  of  which  there  are  two  va- 
rieties, the  common  and  the  long-billed  sturgeon.  They 
constitute  a  staple  article  of  food  with  the  Indians,  who  take 
them  with  gill-nets  and  the  spear.  Their  manner  of  pre- 
serving them  is  by  drying  and  smoking.  In  size  they  vary 
from  three  to  eight  feet  in  length,  weighing  from  thirty  to 
one  hundred  and  thirty  pounds.  Like  all  the  larger  fish  of 
the  Mississippi,  their  flavor  is  far  from  being  delicate.  With 
the  sturgeon,  which  is  a  plebeian  fish,  I  am  disposed  to  class 
the  mullet,  sucker,  rock-bass,  sun-fish,  bill-fish,  bull-head, 
and  chub,  and  can  affirm  from  personal  knowledge  that  all 
these  fish  are  abundant  in  the  Mississippi. 

They  are  in  their  prime  in  the  spring,  but  very  few  of 
them  are  fit  to  eat  in  the  summer.  With  the  Indians,  how-*" 
ever,  they  are  eaten  at  all  seasons,  and  I  have  never  yet  seen 
a  fish  in  their  country  which  they  did  not  use  as  an  article 
of  food.  Pickerel  and  perch  also  abound  in  all  the  waters  of 
this  region,  but  I  do  not  consider  them  equal  to  the  same  va- 
rieties in  New  England.  All  the  larger  lakes  which  help  to 
swell  the  Upper  Mississippi  are  well  supplied  with  white-fish, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  118 

the  best  of  which  are  found  in  Leech  Lake.  As  an  article 
of  food  they  excel  all  the  fish  of  the  northwest,  but  as  they 
are  of  the  shad  genus,  the  angler  can  only  praise  them  in  the 
abstract. 

The  Indians  employ  a  great  variety  of  modes  for  taking 
all  these  fish,  but  the  gill-net,  the  spear,  and  the  bow  and 
arrow  are  the  more  successful  ones. 

But  the  regular  game  fish  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  are 
the  muskalounge,  pike,  black  bass,  and  trout ;   and    of  these 
it  always  affords  me  unfeigned  pleasure  to  discourse.     The 
two  former  varieties  are  so  nearly  alike  in  appearance  and 
habits  that  I  am  disposed  to  speak  of  them  as  one  and  the 
same  thing.     Formerly  I  entertained  the  opinion  that  a  musk- 
alounge was  only  an  overgrown  pike,  but  within  the  past  year 
I  have  compared  them  together,  and  am  convinced  that  they 
are  materially  different.   Their  habits,  however,  are  precisely 
alike.       They    are   exceedingly  abundant  in    the   sluggish 
waters  of  the  Mississippi,  and  vary  from  five  to  fifty  pounds 
in   weight.     They  are   in   season  about  nine  months  of  the 
year,  but  in  the  spring,  at  which  time  they  ascend  the  river 
to  spawn,  are   in  their  prime.     It   is  well  known  that  these 
fish  are  bold  biters ;  but  the  pike  is  unquestionably  the  most 
active   and  cunning  of  the  two,   and  consequently   the  most 
valuable    to   the    angler.     The    muskalounge  is   somewhat 
of  a  sluggard,  and  owing  to  his  size  and  hyena-like  charac- 
ter, the   very  fish  of  all  others   for  spearing   by  torchlight. 
The  handsomest  pike   I  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  capturing 
was  a  resident  of  Lake  Pepin.     I  was  sauntering  along  the 
base  of  one  of  the    rocky  bluffs  of  this  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  and  had  spent  most  of  the  day  without  success,  trying 
to  take  a  trout  with  a  mammoth  fly.     I  had    thrown  out  my 
line  for  the   last  time,  when,  as  I  was  carelessly  winding  it 
up,  I  was  astonished  by  a  sudden  leap  within  twenty  feet  of 
me,  and  in  a  moment  more  it  was  whizzing  through  the  water 


114  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


in  fine  style.  I  humored  the  gentleman  for  about  ten  mi- 
nutes, leading  him  meanwhile  towards  a  sand-bar,  where  I 
secured  and  placed  him  in  my  canoe.  He  weighed  upwards 
of  twenty-one  pounds,  was  very  fat,  had  a  black  back  and 
silvery  belly. 

My  best  muskalounge  fishing  occurred  at  a  bend  in  the 
Mississippi,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  above  the 
Falls  of  Saint  Anthony.  I  took  them  with  a  spear  and  by 
torch-light,  standing  in  the  bow  of  a  canoe  which  was  pro- 
pelled by  an  Indian.  Noiselessly  did  our  birchen  torch  glide 
into  a  thousand  nooks  of  the  stream,  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp, 
with  a  couple  of  deluded  followers.  I  took  no  note  of  time 
on  that  memorable  occasion,  and  the  only  thing  which  pre- 
vented me  from  fishing  until  morning,  was  the  fog  which 
covered  the  river  about  midnight.  We  landed,  however, 
with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  fish  to  supply  the  whole  encamp- 
ment of  Indians  for  at  least  three  days,  and  among  them 
were  seven  specimens  of  the  muskalounge, — the  remainder 
being  composed  of  small  fry  in  general.  On  opening  one  of 
my  prizes,  an  immense  black-snake  was  found  in  his  bowels, 
from  which  time  I  date  my  antipathy  to  this  fishy  genus  as 
an  article  of  food. 

The  best,  and  one  of  the  most  universal  fish  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, is  the  black  bass.  They  vary  from  one  to  seven 
pounds  in  weight,  are  taken  with  the  fly,  the  minnow  and 
the  frog,  and  in  my  opinion,  as  a  game  fish,  are  only  second 
to  the  trout.  They  are  found  in  great  abundance  at  all  the 
rapids  in  the  river,  but  afforded  me  the  finest  sport  at  the 
Falls  of  Saint  Anthony.  When  I  was  there  the  water  was 
uncommonly  low,  so  that  pool  fishing  was  in  its  prime,  and  I 
enjoyed  it  to  perfection.  If  I  thought  that  my  word  would 
not  be  doubted.  I  should  be  pleased  to  mention  the  fact,  that 
on  one  occasion  I  captured  no  less  than  thirty-five  superb 
bass  in  the  space  of  two  hours,  and  that  too,  without  once 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  115 

moving  the  anchor  of  my  boat.  1  took  them  with  a  hand- 
lino,  baiting  with  a  minnow,  and  the  majority  of  them  weigh- 
ed  over  three  pounds  apiec 

The  only  respectable  trout  region  of  the  Mississippi 
extends  from  Prairie  Du  Chien  to  Lake  St.  Croix.  An 
expert  angler  may  lure  capture  an  occasional  pounder,  out 
of  the  river  itself;  but  the  rarest  of  sport  is  afforded  by  all 
the  neighboring  brooks,  which  run  through  a  hilly  country, 
and  are  rapid,  rocky,  and  clear.  The  trout  of  these  streams 
average  about  eight  ounces  in  weight.  As  I  sailed  up  the 
Alpine  portion  of  the  river  in  a  steamboat,  my  opportunities 
for  wetting  the  line  were  not  frequent  or  particularly  suc- 
cessful, as  the  following  illustration  will  testify. 

I  had  just  arisen  from  the  breakfast  table,  when  the  pilot 
of  the  boat  informed  me  that  he  was  about  to  be  delayed  for 
two  hours,  and  that  there  was  a  fine  trout  stream  a  little 
farther  on,  which  1  might  investigate.  I  immediately  hailed 
a  couple  of  my  travelling  companions,  and  with  our  rods  in 
prime  order,  we  all  started  for  the  unknown  stream.  Owing 
to  a  huge  rock  that  lay  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  we  were 
compelled  to  make  an  extensive  circuit  over  a  number  of 
brier-covered  hills,  and  we  found  the  bed  of  our  pilot's  trout 
brook  without  a  particle  of  water.  What  aggravated  our 
miserable  condition  was  the  intense  heat  of  the  sun,  which 
shot  its  fiery  arrows  into  our  very  brains.  In  about  an  hour, 
however,  we  succeeded  in  reaching  the  Mississippi  once 
more,  and  there,  comfortably  seated  in  the  shadow  of  a  bluff, 
we  threw  out  our  lines  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  boat. 
We  happened  to  be  in  the  vicinity  of  a  deep  hole,  out  of 
which  we  brought  five  black-bass,  weighing  three  and  four 
pounds  apiece.  We  did  not  actually  capture  a  single  trout, 
but  the  sight  of  one  immense  fellow  that  I  lost  almost  brought 
upon  me  a  lit  of  sickness.  Something  very  heavy  had  seized 
my  hook,  and  after  playing  it  for  some  minutes  I  was  about 


116  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

to  land  it,  when  I  saw  that  it  was  a  trout,  (it  must  have 
weighed  some  three  pounds,)  but  making  a  sudden  leap,  it 
snapped  my  line,  and  was,  like  a  great  many  objects  in  this 
world,  entirely  out  of  my  reach ;  and  then  I  was  the  victim 
of  a  loud  and  long  laugh.  The  only  thing  that  kept  me 
from  falling  into  a  settled  melancholy  was  the  incident 
which  immediately  followed.  When  the  boat  came  along, 
a  Frenchman  who  was  a  passenger,  and  happened  to  have  a 
canoe  floating  at  the  stern,  volunteered  his  services  to  take 
us  on  board  the  steamer.  Knowing  that  my  friends  had 
never  been  in  a  canoe  before,  I  would  not  embark  with  them, 
and  in  about  two  minutes  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them 
capsized,  and  after  they  had  become  completely  soaked,  of 
seeing  them  rescued  from  all  danger,  minus  the  three  fine 
bass  which  they  had  taken.  This  feat  was  performed  in 
the  presence  of  quite  a  number  of  ladies,  and  to  the  tune  of 
as  satisfactory  a  laugh  as  1  ever  enjoyed. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

St.  Louis  River,  July,  184G. 

I  now  write  you  from  the  margin  of  a  stream  which 
empties  into  Lake  Superior,  towards  which  I  am  impatiently 
pursuing  my  way.  Sandy  Lake,  where  ended  my  voyaging 
on  the  Mississippi,  is  one  of  the  most  famous  lakes  of  the 
northwest.  It  lies  only  about  three  miles  east  of  the  great 
river,  and  almost  directly  west  from  Lake  Superior.  Over 
the  intervening  route  which  connects  the  two  water  wonders 
of  our  country,  more  furs  and  Indian  goods  have  been  trans- 
ported, than  over  any  other  trail  in  the  wilderness.  The 
lake  received  its  name  from  the  French,  on  account  of  its 
sandy  shores,  which  are  remarkably  beautiful,  abounding  in 
agates  and  cornelians.  There  is  a  trading  post  here,  which 
is  said  to  have  been  established  ninety  years  ago;  and  in  a 
certain  log  cabin  which  was  pointed  out  to  me,  I  was  told 
furs  had  been  stored,  to  the  value  of  fifty  millions  of  dollars. 

The  shores  of  this  lake  are  hilly,  and  being  full  of  beau- 
tiful islands,  it  presents  a  most  interesting  appearance.  The 
water  is  clear  and  abounds  in  fish,  of  which  the  black  bass, 
the  pike  and  white-fish  are  the  most  abundant. 

The  voyager  in  pursuing  this  route  always  finds  it  neces- 
sary to  make  a  number  of  portages.  The  original  manner 
in  which  I  performed  one  of  these  I  will   briefly  describe. 

When  the  company  to  which  I  belonged  had  landed  on 
the  eastern  shore  of  Sandy  Lake,  I  immediately  inquired  for 
the  trail,  seized  my  gun  and  started  on  ahead,  hoping  that  I 

6* 


118  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


might  succeed  in  killing  a  few  pigeons  for  supper.  The 
path  was  well  beaten,  the  scenery  interesting,  and  I  went  on 
with  a  light  heart  and  a  head  full  of  fantastic  images  born  of 
the  wild  forest.  The  only  creature  in  the  way  of  game  that 
I  saw  was  a  large  red  deer,  which  suddenly  startled  me  by 
a  shrill  snort,  and  bounded  away  as  if  in  scorn  of  my  loco- 
motive powers.  Soon  as  my  hair  was  fairly  settled  to  its 
natural  smoothness  on  my  head,  (how  very  uncomfortable  it 
is  to  be  frightened  !)  the  deer  made  a  dignified  pause,  and  I 
attempted  to  draw  near  by  dodging  along  behind  the  trees. 

Soon  as  I  was  through   dodging.  I  looked  up   and  found 
that  my  game  was  missing,  and  I  therefore  wheeled  about  to 
resume  my  journey.     My  intention  was  reasonable  and  law- 
ful,  but  then  arose  the  thought,  what  direction  shall  I  pursue  ? 
The  more  I  pondered  the   more  my  wonder  grew,  and  after 
a  series  of  ineffectual  rambles  I  finally  concluded  that  I  had 
lost  my  way,  and  must  spend  the  night,  literally  speaking, 
"  in  the  wilderness  alone."     I   now   record  my  tale  without 
a  particle  of  emotion,  but  I  can  tell  you  that  my  feelings  and 
reflections  on  that  occasion  were  uncomfortable  in  the  extreme. 
After  wandering   about  the   woods   until   my  feet  were 
blistered,  I  concluded  to  pitch  my  tent  for  the  night,  although 
the  only  things  I  had  with  me  to  make  me  comfortable  in  my 
solitude,  were  an  unloaded  gun,  a  horn  half  full  of  powder, 
and  my  shot-bag,  empty  of  shot  and  balls.     I  happened  to  be 
in  a  deep  valley,  which  was  entirely  covered  with  pine  trees. 
One  of  them  had  two  large   branches  that  shot  out  together 
about  a  dozen  feet  from  the  ground,  and    as   I  had    no  sure 
way  of  keeping  off  an  enemy,  I  managed  to  climb  up  to  them, 
and  there  spent  the  night,  without  once  budging  from  my  in- 
teresting roost. 

I  was  not  visited  by  any  goblins  on  that  memorable  night, 
but  the  actual  miseries  which  ministered  to  me  during  the  dark 
hours  were  quite   numerous.     In   the   first   place,  I  had  to 


SVKMBB    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  119 

watch  tho  deepening  shadows  of  the  evening,  tormented  by- 
hunger  and  thirst.  Instead  of  having  an  opportunity  to  sa- 
tisfy my  own  appetite,  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  musketoes  of 
the  wilderness  had  assembled  together  for  the  purpose  of 
having  a  feast  on  my  own  flesh  and  blood.  But  nature 
granted  me  a  brief  respite  from  this  torment,  by  causing  a 
heavy  shower  to  fall,  which  had  a  tendency  to  cool  my  fever- 
ish lips  and  brow,  and  allowed  me  a  lucid  interval  of  sleep. 

But  this  blessedness  was  soon  ended,  for  in  a  fit  of  the 
night-mare  I  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  falling  to  the 
ground.  After  I  had  fairly  recovered  myself,  and  again 
drank  in  the  horrors  of  a  muskcto  dirge,  I  almost  made  up 
my  mind  to  drop  at  any  rate,  and  thereby  end  my  life  and 
the  enjoyment  of  my  infernal  enemies. 

But  there  was  soon  another  change  in  the  character  of 
my  miseries.  An  immense  owl  had  the  impudence  to  perch 
himself  on  a  limb  above  my  head,  whence  he  poured  forth  a 
flood  of  the  most  horrible  screaming  that  mortal  ever  heard. 
Soon  as  the  echoes  thus  awakened  had  melted  into  silence,  a 
crackling  sound  fell  upon  my  car,  and  I  beheld  an  old  bear, 
straggling  along,  as  if  he  was  sure  of  enjoying  a  feast  of 
fresh  meat. 

He  halted  and  snufFed  around  the  base  of  a  tree,  which 
stood  only  a  few  yards  distant  from  the  one  I  occupied,  and 
then  continued  on  his  way.  He  seemed  to  know  that  human 
feet  had  lately  trodden  the  valley,  but  rationally  concluding 
that  no  sensible  man  would  remain  in  that  particular  region 
any  longer  than  he  could  possibly  help  it,  he  did  not  trouble 
himself  about  the  scent  he  had  discovered.  1  felt  grateful 
towards  the  old  savage  for  his  unintentional  politeness,  but  if 
my  gun  had  been  loaded  with  only  one  ball,  I  should  have 
favond  him  with  an  unexpected  salute. 

The  hours  which    followed  this  event,  and    preceded   the 
dawn,  were  the  longest  that  1  ever  experienced.    My  wretch. 


120  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


edness  was  indescribable ;  I  was  cold  and  hungry,  and  in  a 
perfect  fever,  from  want  of  sleep,  and  the  insect  poison  in- 
fused  into  my  whole  body ;  but  morning  came  at  last,  and 
with  it  the  warm  bright  sunshine  and  the  silence  of  the  Sab- 
bath ;  only  a  loud  clear  chorus  of  sweetest  melody  echoed 
through  the  pine  forest  valley,  from  the  throats  of  a  thousand 
feathered  minstrels. 

On  descending  from  my  elevated  position,  I  ascended  a 
high  hill,  from  whose  summit  I  could  look  down  upon  a 
beautiful  lake,  where  I  saw  my  fellow  travellers  all  quietly 
afloat  in  their  canoes.  I  loaded  my  gun  with  powder  and 
fired  a  signal,  which  was  answered  by  a  deafening  shout, 
that  was  far  sweeter  to  my  ears  at  that  particular  moment 
than  even  the  song  of  birds.  When  the  Indians  who  had  been 
hunting  after  me  had  returned,  and  when  I  resumed  my  seat 
in  the  canoe,  and  had  a  slice  of  cold  pork  between  my  fin- 
gers, I  was  perfectly  happy,  in  spite  of  the  many  jokes 
cracked  at  my  expense. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Moi-tii  of  TBI  Baimt  Louis,  August,  1846. 

By  looking  on  the  map  you  will  observe  that  this  river 
enters  Lake  Superior  on  the  extreme  west.  I  had  not  the 
means  of  ascertaining  its  precise  length,  but  was  told  that 
above  the  Savannah,  where  I  struck  it,  it  is  an  inconsiderable 
stream.  From  that  point  to  the  lake  it  is  quite  a  majestic 
river,  and  I  should  suppose  the  distance  to  be  nearly  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles.  It  has  more  the  appearance  of  a 
wild  New  England  river  than  any  other  that  I  have  seen  in 
the  western  country.  It  is  exceedingly  rocky,  and  so  full  of 
sunken  boulders  and  dangerous  rapids,  that  it  never  could  be 
made  navigable  further  up  than  Fon  du  Lac,  which  is  twenty 
miles  from  Lake  Superior.  The  water  is  perfectly  clear, 
but  of  a  rich  snufF  color,  owing  probably  to  the  swamps  out 
of  which  it  runs.  It  is  said  to  rise  and  fall  very  suddenly. 
Its  entire  shores  are  without  a  solitary  habitation  (excepting 
at  the  trading  post  already  mentioned),  and  the  scenery  is 
picturesque,  wild  and  romantic.  But  I  hear  the  roar  of  its 
glorious  cataracts,  and  must  attempt  a  description  of  them. 

There  is  a  place  on  this  river  called  the  Knife  Portage, 
from  the  fact  that  the  rocks  here  are  exceedingly  sharp  and 
pointed,  where  the  stream  forms  a  large  bend,  and  where  the 
voyager  has  to  make  a  portage  of  twelve  miles.  The  length 
of  this  bend  may  be  sixteen  miles,  and  in  that  distance  the 
water  has  a  fall    of  about   three    hundred    and    twenty   ieet. 


122  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


I 


The  width  of  the  river  may  be  from  three  to  four  hundred 
yards.  At  this  point  (just  above  Fon  du  Lac)  are  three 
nameless  waterfalls,  whose  dimensions  are  indeed  stupendous: 
they  are  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the  northwest.  The  water 
of  the  first  tumbles  over  a  pile  of  pointed  rocks,  and  after 
twisting  itself  into  every  possible  variety  of  schutes  and 
foaming  streams,  finally  murmurs  itself  to  sleep  in  a  pool 
eighty  feet  below  the  summit  whence  it  takes  its  first  leap. 

The  second  fall,  or  rather  cataract,  is  about  one  hundred 
and  forty  feet  high,  nearly  perpendicular,  and  the  water 
rushes  over  almost  in  a  solid  and  unbroken  body. 

The  walls  of  slate  on  either  side  are  lofty,  and  "  crowned 
with  a  peculiar  diadem  of  trees  ;"  and  as  the  roaring  of  the 
fall  is  perfectly  deafening,  its  effect  upon  me  was  allied  to 
that  of  Niagara.  The  pools  at  the  bottom  appeared  to  be  black 
and  fathomless,  but  the  spray  was  whiter  than  snow,  and  the 
rainbows  beautiful  beyond  comparison.  When  I  gazed  upon 
the  features  of  this  superb  water-wonder,  united  as  they  were 
in  one  complete  picture  ;  when  I  listened  to  the  scream  of  an 
hundred  eagles  mingling  with  its  roar,  and  thought  of  the 
uninhabited  wilderness  in  every  direction  around  me,  I 
was  most  deeply  impressed  with  the  power  of  the  Omnipo- 
tent. 

I  visited  this  cataract  accompanied  by  a  party  of  Indians, 
and  owing  to  the  length  of  time  it  took  us  to  reach  it,  we 
were  compelled  to  spend  the  night  in  its  immediate  vicinity. 
And  then  it  was  that  the  effect  of  this  cataract  upon  my  mind 
was  so  impressive  as  actually,  at  times,  to  be  exceedingly 
painful.  We  built  our  watch-fire  on  the  southern  shore,  in  a 
sheltering  bay,  about  one  hundred  yards  from  the  fall,  and 
on  a  spot  where  we  could  command  a  complete  view  of  the 
superb  picture. 

Our  supper  on  that  occasion  was  composed  exclusively 
of  venison,  as  one  of  the   party  had   succeeded  in  killing  a 


SUMMER    IN    TBI    WILDERNESS.  129 

deer  in  one  of  his  morning  excursions;  and  though  I  had 
not  eaten  for  nine  or  ton  hours,  I  seemed  to  have  lost  my  ap- 
petite, and  took  my  food  merely  as  a  matter  of  necessity  ; — 
the  fact  was,  I  thought  myself  the  inhabitant  of  a  "  fantastic 
realm.'"  and  could  hardly  feel  that  I  was  a  mere  mortal,  the 
creature  of  an  hour.  After  our  repast  was  ended,  two  of 
the  Indians  lighted  their  birchen  torches  and   jumped   into  a 

uoe  for  the  purpose  of  spearing  fish.  I  watched  them 
with  peculiar  interest,  and  saw  them  perform  one  feat  which 
was  truly  wonderful.  They  had  wounded  an  immense  pike 
on  a  shoal,  very  Dear  a  column  of  the  falling  element,  when 
the  stricken  creature  floundered  away  into  the  foaming  wa- 
ter, and  the  canoe  darted  on  in  quick  pursuit,  as  if  its  in- 
mates were  determined  to  capture  or  die.  One  moment  it 
seemed  as  if  the  torrent  of  water  must  he  pouring  into  the 
canoe,  and  the  torches  he  extinguished,  and  then  again,  I 
could  only  see  a  halo  of  light,  looking  like  the  sun  rising  at 
midnight,  as  the  fishermen  glided  behind  a  sheet  of  water  or 
a  cloud  of  spray.  They  were  successful  in  their  sport,  and 
finally  returned  and  presented  their  prize  at  my  feet.  The 
party  then  enjoyed  a  pipe  for  about  twenty  minutes,  when 
the  younger  Indians  commenced  playing  their  favorite  mocca- 
son  game,  and  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  evening  conversing 
with  the  chief  and  patriarch  of  the  band,  from  whom  I 
gathered  the  following  tradition  respecting  the  cataract. 

'•  More  moons  ago  than  I  can  count,"  said  the  old  man, 
"the  country  lying  between  the  big  lake  (Superior)  and  the 
place  where  the  sun  goes  down,  was  owned  by  the  Sioux  na- 
tion, which  was  then  immensely  powerful.  They  were  very 
cruel  in  their  warfare,  and  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to 

mihilate  the  Chippewa v  nation.  The  Great  Spirit  was  not 
their  friend,  but  ours,  and  once,  when  a  multitude  of  their 
warriors  were  pursuing  some  of  our  hunters  down  the  river, 
the  Great  Spirit  suddenly  kicked  out  the  bottom  in  this  plai 


124  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


and  the  principal  enemies  of  our  nation  were  all  destroyed. 
Since  that  time  we  have  been  the  possessors  of  this  vast  coun- 
try, and  the  children  of  our  ancient  enemies  catch  the  buffalo 
in  a  far  distant  prairie  land." 

With  this  legend  deeply  impressed  on  my  brain  (the 
telling  of  which  occupied  my  companion  for  nearly  two 
hours)  I  ordered  more  wood  to  be  placed  on  the  fire,  and 
leaving  the  others  to  take  care  of  themselves,  rolled  myself 
up  in  my  blanket,  and  was  soon  asleep.  I  was  awakened 
only  once  during  the  night,  and  that  was  by  the  distant  howl 
of  a  wolf,  minslino-  with  the  solemn  anthem  of  the  cataract. 
I  sat  up  for  a  moment  to  look  upon  the  scene,  but  the  sky 
was  covered  with  clouds,  and  it  was  exceedingly  dark.  Even 
the  embers  of  our  watch-fire  had  ceased  blazing.  Around 
me  lay  my  companions  in  a  deep  sleep.  Once  more  did  I 
listen  to  that  dreadful  howl,  and  that  Godlike  voice  of  many 
waters,  until,  like  a  frightened  child,  I  hastily  covered  my 
head,  and  wept  myself  to  sleep.  On  the  following  morning 
we  resumed  our  journey  in  the  midst  of  a  rain  storm,  the 
memory  of  that  night  and  that  cataract,  however,  haunting 
me  like  a  dream. 

The  next  perpendicular  fall  within  the  bend  I  have  men- 
tioned, is  some  two  miles  down  the  stream,  and  is  only  about 
fifty  feet  in  height,  but  its  grandeur  is  somewhat  enhanced 
by  the  rapids  which  succeed  it,  and  have  a  fall  of  some  forty 
or  fifty  feet  more.  An  old  trader  tells  me  that  I  am  the  first 
traveller  from  the  states  who  has  ever  taken  the  trouble 
actually  to  visit  these  cataracts.  If  this  is  a  fact,  and  as  the 
Indians,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  have  never  christened  them,  I 
claim  the  privilege  of  giving  them  a  name.  Let  them,  then, 
be  known  hereafter  as  the  Chippeway  Falls.  It  is  a  singu- 
lar circumstance  that  a  pine  tree  might  be  cut  in  this  interior 
wilderness,  and  if  launched  in  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the 
Mississippi,  or  in  the  Saint  Louis  River,  and  propelled  by 


BT7MMEH    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  I 'Jo 


favorable  winds  alone,  could,  in  process  of  time,  be  planted 

in  the  hull  of  a  shi|)  at  any  sea-port  on  the  globe. 

The  navigable  portion  of  the  Saint  Louis,  as  before  re- 
marked, extends  only  about  twenty  miles  from  the  Lake,  at 
which  point  is  the  place  legitimately  called  Fen  du  Lac.  It 
is  an  ancient  trading  post,  and  contains  about  half  a  dozen 
white  inhabitants,  viz.,  a  worthy  missionary  and  his  interest- 
ing family.  The  agent  of  the  Fur  Company  and  his  assist- 
ants are  half-breeds,  and  a  most  godless  set  of  people  they 
are.  It  is  a  general  rendezvous  for  several  Indian  tribes, 
and  when  I  was  there  was  quite  crowded  with  the  barba- 
rians. 

Fon  du  Lac,  so  far  as  the  scenery  is  concerned,  is  one 
of  the  most  truly  delightful  places  that  I  ever  met  with  in  my 
life.  The  first  white  man  who  traded  here  was  my  friend 
Morrison,  after  whom  the  highest  hill  in  the  vicinity  was 
named.  Upon  this  eminence  I  spent  a  pleasant  afternoon 
revelling  over  a  landscape  of  surpassing  loveliness.  Far 
below  me  lay  an  extensive  natural  meadow,  on  the  left  of 
which  was  a  pretty  lake,  and  on  the  right  a  little  hamlet 
composed  of  log  cabins  and  bark  wigwams.  The  broad  val- 
ley of  the  Saint  Louis  faded  away  to  the  east,  studded  with 
islands,  and  protected  on  either  side  by  a  range  of  high  wood- 
crowned  hills,  beyond  which  reposed  in  its  conscious  pride 
the  mighty  lake-wonder  of  the  world.  The  atmosphere 
which  rested  upon  the  whole  scene  seemed  to  halo  every 
feature,  and  with  the  occasional  tinkling  of  a  solitary  cow- 
bell, combined  to  fill  my  heart  with  an  indescribable  joy. 

Most  of  my  rambles  about  this  place  were  performed  in 
company  with  the  missionary  already  mentioned.  He  in- 
formed me  that  the  surrounding  country  abounded  in  rich 
copper  ore,  in  agates  and  cornelians  of  the  first  water,  and 
that  all  the  smaller  streams  of  the  country  afforded  rare 
trout  fishing.     If  this  end  of  Lake  Superior  should  become, 


126  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

as  I  doubt  not  it  will,  famous  for  its  mines,  Fon  du  Lac  would 
be  a  most  agreeable  place  to  reside  in,  as  it  is  easily  reached 
by  vessels.  I  was  hospitably  entertained  by  this  gentleman, 
and  could  not  but  contrast  the  appearance  of  his  dwelling 
with  that  of  his  neighbor  the  French  trader.  In  the  one  you 
might  see  a  small  library,  a  large  family  Bible,  the  floor  cov- 
ered  with  matting,  &c,  a  neat,  tidy,  and  intelligent  wife  and 
children  ;  in  the  other,  a  pack  of  cards,  a  barrel  of  whisky, 
a  stack  of  guns,  and  a  family  whose  filthiness  was  only 
equalled  by  the  total  ignorance  of  its  various  members.  And 
this  contrast  only  inadequately  portrays  the  difference  be- 
tween Christianity  and  heathenism. 

I  left  Fondu  Lac  about  day-break,  and  with  a  retinue  of 
some  twenty  canoes,  which  were  freighted  with  Indians  bound 
to  a  payment  at  La  Pointe.  It  was  one  of  those  misty  sum- 
mer mornings  when  every  object  in  nature  wears  a  bewitch, 
ing  aspect,  and  her  still  small  voice  seems  to  whisper  to  the 
heart  that  it  is  not  the  "  whole  of  life  to  live,  nor  the  whole 
of  death  to  die,"  and  when  we  feel  that  God  is  omnipotent 
and  the  mind  immortal.  But  the  scenery  of  this  portion  of 
the  river  is  beautiful — beautiful  beyond  any  thing  I  had  im- 
agined to  exist  in  any  country  on  the  globe.  The  entire 
distance  from  Fon  du  Lac  to  this  place,  as  before  mentioned, 
is  not  far  from  twenty  miles.  The  river  is  very  broad  and 
deep  and  completely  filled  with  wooded  islands,  while  on 
either  side  extends  a  range  of  mountains  which  are  as  wild 
and  solitary,  as  when  brought  into  existence. 

Every  member  of  the  voyaging  party  seemed  to  be  per- 
fectly happy,  and  we  travelled  at  our  ease,  for  the  purpose 
of  prolonging  the  enjoyment  of  the  voyage.  At  one  time 
we  landed  at  the  base  of  a  cliff,  and  while  I  made  a  draw- 
ing or  ransacked  the  shore  for  abates  and  cornelians,  and  the 
young  Indians  clambered  up  a  hillside  for  roots  or  berries, 
the  more  venerable  personages  of  the  party  would  sit  in  their 


SUMMBH    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  127 


canoes,  quietly  puffing  away  at  their  pipes  as  they  watched 
the  movements  of  their  younger  companions.  Ever  and 
anon  might  be  heard  the  report  of  a  gun,  or  the  whiz  of  an 
arrCW,  as  we  happened  to  pass  the  feeding  place  of  a  flock 
of  ducks,  the  nest  of  an  eagle  or  raven,  or  the  marshy  haunt 
of  a  muskrat  or  otter.  Now  we  surprised  a  couple  of  deer 
Bwimmine  across  the  river,  one  of  which  the  Indians  sue- 
ceeded  in  capturing;  and  now  we  hauled  up  our  canoes  on 
a  sandy  island,  to  have  a  talk  with  some  lonely  Indian 
family,  the  smoke  of  whose  wigwam  had  attracted  our  atten- 
tion, rising  from  between  the  trees.  Our  sail  down  the  river 
occupied  us  until  about  ten  o'clock,  when  we  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  and  disembarked  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
paring and  eating  our  breakfast.  We  landed  on  the  river 
side  of  a  long  sandy  point,  and  while  the  Indians  were  cook- 
inff  a  venison  steak  and  a  large  trout,  I  rambled  over  the 
sand  hills,  and  as  the  sun  came  out  of  a  cloud  and  dissipated 
every  vestige  of  the  morning  mist,  obtained  my  first  view  of 
Lake  Superior,  where,  above  the  apparently  boundless  plain 
I  could  only  discover  an  occasional  gull  wheeling  to  and  fro 
as  if  sporting  with  the  sunbeams. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Sault  St.  Marie,  August,  1846. 

I  have  finished  my  pilgrimage  around  the  shores  of  Lake 
Superior,  given  away  my  birchen  canoe,  and  parted  with 
my  Indian  guides  and  fellow-voyagers.  It  now  remains  for 
me  to  mould  into  an  intelligible  form  the  notes  which  I 
have  recorded  from  time  to  time,  while  seated  in  my  canoe 
or  lounging  beside  the  watch-fires  of  my  barbarous  com- 
panions. 

Lake  Superior,  known  to  be  the  largest  body  of  fresh 
water  on  the  globe,  is  not  far  from  four  hundred  miles  long 
from  east  to  west,  and  one  hundred  and  thirty  wide.  It  is  the 
grand  reservoir  whence  proceed  the  waters  of  Michigan, 
Huron,  and  Erie ;  it  gives  birth  to  Niagara,  the  wonder  of 
the  world,  fills  the  basin  of  Ontario,  and  rolls  a  mighty  flood 
down  the  valley  of  the  Saint  Lawrence  to  the  Atlantic.  It 
lies  in  the  bosom  of  a  mountainous  land,  where  the  red  man 
yet  reigns  in  his  native  freedom.  Excepting  an  occasional 
picketed  fort  or  trading  house,  it  is  yet  a  perfect  wilderness. 
The  entire  country  is  rocky  and  covered  with  a  stunted 
growth  of  vegetation,  where  the  silver  fur,  the  pine,  hemlock, 
the  cedar  and  the  birch  are  most  abundant.  The  soil  is 
principally  composed  of  a  reddish  clay,  which  becomes 
almost  as  hard  as  brick  on  being  exposed  to  the  action  of  the 
air  and  sun.  In  some  of  the  valleys,  however,  the  soil  is 
rich  and  suitable  for  purposes  of  agriculture. 

The  waters  of  this  magnificent  lake  are  marvellously 
clear,   and   even  at  midsummer   are   exceedingly  cold.     In 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  129 

passing  along  its  rocky  shores  in  my  frail  canoe,  I  have  often 
been  alarmed  at  the  sight  of  a  sunken  boulder,  which  I  fan- 
cied must  be  near  the  top,  and  on  further  investigation  have 
found  myself  to  be  upwards  of  twenty  feet  from  the  danger 
of  a  concussion  ;  and  I  have  frequently  lowered  a  white  rag 
to  the  depth  of  one  hundred  feet,  and  been  able  to  discern  its 
every  fold  or  stain.  The  color  of  the  water  near  the  shore 
is  a  deep  green,  but  off  soundings  it  has  all  the  dark  blue 
appearance  o£the  ocean.  The  sandy  shores  are  more  abrupt 
than  those  of  any  body  of  water  I  have  ever  seen  ;  and  with- 
in a  few  feet  of  many  of  its  innumerable  bluffs,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  a  ship  to  anchor.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that 
the  waters  of  this  lake  are  much  heavier  than  those  of  Huron, 
which  are  also  heavier  than  those  of  Erie  and  Michigan.  I 
am  informed  on  the  best  authority  that  a  loaded  canoe  will 
draw  at  least  two  inches  more  water  in  Huron  than  in  Supe- 
rior. 

The  natural  harbors  of  this  lake  are  not  numerous,  but 
on  account  of  its  extent  and  depth  it  affords  an  abundance  of 
sea  room,  and  is  consequently  one  of  the  safest  of  the  great 
lakes  to  navigate.  The  only  trouble  is  that  it  is  subject  to 
severe  storms,  which  arise  very  suddenly.  Often  have  I 
floated  on  its  sleeping  bosom  in  my  canoe  at  noonday,  and 
watched  the  butterfly  sporting  in  the  sunbeams  ;  and  at  the 
sunset  hour  of  the  same  day,  have  stood  in  perfect  terror 
upon  the  rocky  shore,  gazing  upon  the  mighty  billows 
careering  onward  as  if  mad  with  a  wild  delight,  while  a 
wailing  song,  mingled  with  the  "  trampling  surf,"  would 
ascend  to  the  gloomy  sky.  The  shipping  of  the  lake  at  the 
present  time  is  composed  of  one  steamboat,  one  propeller, 
and  several  small  schooners,  winch  are  chiefly  supported  by 
the  fur  and  copper  business. 

And  now  a  word  or  two  about  the  climate  of  this  region. 
The  winters  are  very  long,  averaging  about  seven  months, 


130  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

while  spring,  summer  and  autumn  are  compelled  to  fulfill 
their  duties  in  the  remaining  five.  During  the  former 
season  the  snow  frequently  covers  the  whole  country  to  the 
depth  of  three,  four  and  five  feet,  but  the  cold  is  regular  and 
consequently  healthful.  The  few  white  people  who  spend 
their  winters  in  this  remote  region  are  almost  as  isolated  as 
the  inhabitants  of  Greenland.  The  only  news  which  they 
then  obtain  from  the  civilized  world,  is  brought  them  once 
a  month.  The  mail-carriers  are  half-breeds  or»Indians,  who 
travel  through  the  pathless  wilderness  in  a  rude  sledge  drawn 
by  dogs.  But  the  climate  of  Lake  Superior  at  midsummer 
is  delightful  beyond  compare ;  the  air  is  soft  and  bracing  at 
the  same  time.  A  healthier  region  does  not  exist  on  the 
earth,  I  verily  believe,  and  this  assertion  is  corroborated  by 
the  well  known  fact  that  the  inhabitants  usually  live  to  an 
advanced  age,  in  spite  of  their  many  hardships.  The  com- 
mon diseases  of  mankind  are  here  comparatively  unknown, 
and  I  have  never  seen  an  individual  whose  breast  did  not 
swell  with  a  new  emotion  of  delight  as  he  inhaled  the  air  of 
this  northern  wilderness. 

Before  concluding  this  general  description  of  the  region 
I  have  recently  explored,  I  ought  to  speak  of  the  game  which 
is  found  here.  Of  the  larger  animals  the  two  principal  spe- 
cies are  the  black  bear  and  elk,  but  they  are  far  from  being 
abundant ;  of  the  smaller  varieties,  almost  every  northern 
animal  may  be  found,  excepting  the  beaver,  which  has 
become  extinct.  Waterfowl,  as  many  people  suppose,  are 
not  abundant,  for  the  reason  that  the  rocky  bottom  of  the 
lake  yields  no  plants  to  supply  them  with  food  ;  but  west- 
ward of  Superior,  about  the  head  waters  of  the  Saint  Louis 
and  Mississippi,  they  are  found  in  incredible  numbers.  As 
to  snakes,  you  might  travel  a  thousand  miles  through  the 
woods  and  not  see  a  single  specimen.  They  are  not  "  native 
and  to  the  manor  born."     The  traveller  through  this  region 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  LSI 

finds  but  little  use  for  his  guns  and  Elflefl  ;  if,  however,  he 
is  not  too  devoted  a  worshipper  of  mammon,  lie  may  bring 
with  him  any  quantity  of  fishing  tackle,  and  his  brightest 
anticipations  with  regard  to  angling  will  be  fully  realized. 
But  I  must  be  more  particular  in  my  descriptions,  and  will 
therefore  make  the  American  and  Canadian  shores  of  Lake 
Superior  the  theme  of  my  two  next  chapters. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Savlt  Saint  Marie,  August,  1846. 

It  is  computed  that  the  American  coast  of  Lake  Superior 
extends  to  about  twice  the  length  of  that  which  belongs  to 
Canada.  Our  portion  of  the  northern  shore  is  skirted  by  a 
range  of  mountains  which  seem  to  be  from  two  to  three 
thousand  feet  in  height ;  and  it  is  said  they  extend  in  an  un- 
broken chain  from  the  river  Saint  Louis  to  the  gulf  of  Saint 
Lawrence.  Though  they  abound  in  cliffs,  caverns,  and  wa- 
terfalls, when  seen  from  the  water,  "distance  lends  enchant- 
ment" to  these  mountains,  and  they  fade  away,  swell  beyond 
swell,  like  the  rolling  billows  of  the  ocean,  while  an  occa- 
sional cloud  will  rest  upon  them,  as  if  to  remind  the  beholder 
of  a  ship,  and  thus  complete  the  illusion.  On  the  southern 
shore  of  the  lake  is  a  range  called  the  Porcupine  Mountains, 
which  appear  to  be  about  as  extensive  (but  not  so  lofty)  as 
the  Catskills  ;  the*  varying  outlines,  seen  as  you  sail  along 
the  coast,  are  very  beautiful  indeed.  Point  Keweenaw  is 
also  covered  with  hills,  but  less  lofty  and  picturesque  than 
those  already  mentioned.  That  portion  of  the  coast  lying 
between  this  point  and  the  river  Saint  Mary,  is  low,  and  with 
the  exception  of  the  Pictured  Rocks,  uninteresting.  Though 
our  shores  are  not,  generally  speaking,  what  we  should  call 
rocky,  yet  they  are  distinguished  for  a  variety  of  remarkable 
bluffs.  Those  alluded  to  above,  are  found  on  the  east  of 
Point  Keweenaw,  and  extend  along  the  coast  some  nine  miles. 
They  have  been  striped  with  various  colors  by  mineral  allu- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  133 

viations,  and  are  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high.  The 
most  conspicuous  of  them  is  perhaps  three  hundred  feet  high, 
but  its  mostsuperb  feature  was  demolished  by  a  storm  in  the 
year  1816.  That  feature,  according  to  a  drawing  in  my 
possession,  was  an  arch  or  doorway,  fifteen  feet  broad  and 
one  hundred  high,  through  which  the  Indians  were  accus- 
tomed to  pass  with  their  canoes.  In  those  days,  too,  from 
the  crevices  in  these  solid  walls  of  whitish  sandstone  leaped 
forth  beautiful  cascades,  and  mingled  their  waters  with  those 
of  the  lake.  Beautiful  caverns  meet  the  eye  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  the  water  at  their  base  is  of  a  deep  green,  and  in 
some  places  almost  fathomless. 

A  cluster  of  rocks  similar  to  the  above  is  found  west- 
ward of  the  Apostle  Islands.  These,  however,  are  composed 
of  a  deep  red  sandstone,  and  are  only  about  one  hundred 
feet  high,  extending  along  the  shore  for  about  two  miles. 
The  arches  here  are  almost  numberless,  and  exceedingly 
picturesque  and  singular,  and  you  may  wind  your  way  among 
them  in  a  canoe  without  the  least  danger,  provided  you  have 
a  steady  hand  and  sufficient  nerve.  And  the  caverns,  too,  in 
these  bluffs  are  also  very  numerous,  and  some  of  them  are 
so  deep  and  dark  that  the  eye  cannot  measure  their  depths, — 
and  from  these  gloomy  recesses,  "  even  in  a  season  of  calm 
weather,"  always  issues  a  sound  like  thunder,  which  must  be 
perfectly  terrific  when  a  storm  is  raging.  All  these  bluffs 
are  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  Alpine  and  other  trees. 

The  largest  island  in  Lake  Superior  belongs  to  the 
American  government,  and  is  called  Isle  Royal.  It  is  forty 
miles  long,  and  varies  from  six  to  ten  miles  in  width.  Its 
hills  have  an  altitude  of  four  hundred  feet,  it  is  covered 
with  forest,  and  has  a  bold  shore.  During  the  winter  it  is 
entirely  uninhabited,  but  for  the  two  last  summers  has  been 
thoroughly  explored  by  the  copper  speculators.  The  north- 
ern side  is  bold  and  rocky,  but  the  southern  shore  has  a  num- 

7 


134  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


ber  of  fine  bays  and  natural  harbors.  The  soil  is  barren, 
but  distinguished  for  its  fishing  grounds.  According  to 
the  Indians,  it  is  the  home  of  all  the  spirits  of  their  mythol- 
ogy, or  rather  what  we  should  call  fairy -land. 

Near  the  western  extremity  of  this  lake  are  the  Apostle 
Islands,  which  are  evidently  detachments  of  a  peninsula, 
running  out  in  the  same  direction  with  Keweenaw,  which  is 
known  as  La  Point.  The  group  consists  of  three  islands, 
and  they  stud  the  water  most  charmingly.  There  is  a 
dreamy  summer  beauty  about  them,  which  made  me  almost 
sicrh  to  dwell  along  their  peaceful  and  solitary  shores  for  ever. 
They  are  covered  with  dense  forests,  and  ascend  from  the 
water's  edge  to  a  conspicuous  height. 

On  the  extreme  point  of  the  largest  island  is  situated  a 
trading  post  known  as  La  Point.     When  I  was  there,  it  con- 
tained  about  a  dozen  inhabited  log  cabins,  and  the  wigwams 
of  about  three  thousand   Chippeway  Indians.     They  were 
assembled  there  to  receive  their  annual  instalment  in  money 
and  goods  from  the  general  government,  as  a  return  for  the 
untold  acres,  which  they  had  deeded  to  their  "  Great  Father 
and  Protector,"  the  President.  The  sum  allotted  to  each  was 
four  dollars  in  money,  and  in  goods  one  blanket  and  a  suf- 
ficient amount  of  cloth  to  make  a  pair  of  leggins.     This  was 
all,  and  yet  many  of  these  poor  wretches  had  paddled  their 
canoes  more  than  a  thousand  miles,  to  obtain  this  meager 
present.    The  great  majority  had  reached  the  Point  in  a  state 
of  starvation,  and  were  therefore  immediately  compelled  to 
transfer  their  money  into  the  open  hands  of  the  American 
Fur  Company,  for  pork  at  fifty  dollars  per  barrel  and  flour 
at  fifteen  dollars  per  hundred.     It  was  understood,  however, 
that  when  the  red  barbarians  should  start  for  their  distant 
homes,  the  white  barbarians  would  furnish  them  with  suf- 
ficient provisions  to  take  them  out  of  sight.     This  unhappy 
state  of  things  took  such  firm  hold  upon  my  feelings  that  my 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1 H.") 


reflections  upon  the  late  of  the  Indian  tribes  actually  threw 
me  into  a  thoughtful  mood,  and  prevented  me  from  enjoying 
my  visit  on  the  island.  There  is  a  Protestant  missionary  es- 
tablishment at  this  place,  but  the  missionaries  are  compelled 
to  prosecute  their  labors  as  if  with  tied  bands  and  closed  lips, 
on  account  of  the  superior  power  of  the  Romish  church. 
From  time  immemorial  La  Point  has  been  the  Mecca  of  the 
fur  traders  and  the  poor  Indians.  After  exploring  the  im- 
mense wilderness  on  the  west  and  north,  enduring  the  se- 
\  crest  hardships,  they  look  forward  to  their  visit  at  this  place 
as  the  prominent  event  of  the  year.  It  is  also  the  recruiting 
or  starting  place  for  all  expeditions  to  the  Mississippi  river, 
there  being  only  two  routes, — that  by  the  Brule  and  Saint 
Croix  rivers,  and  another  by  the  Saint  Louis. 

The  rivers  running  into  Lake  Superior  from  the  south 
are  quite  numerous,  but  none  of  them  are  very  large.  They 
are  all  remarkably  clear,  and  abound  in  waterfalls.  They 
invariably  enter  the  lake  in  some  sandy  bay,  and  it  is  a  sin- 
gular fact,  that  shortly  after  a  severe  storm  many  of  them 
cannot  be  entered  even  by  a  canoe,  owing  to  their  being 
blocked  with  sand,  which  event  is  of  course  followed  by  an 
overflow,  for  the  time,  of  the  surrounding  country.  When 
the  storm  has  subsided,  however,  they  break  through  the 
sandy  barriers,  and  rush  with  great  velocity  into  the  lake. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Sault  Saint  Marie,  August,  1846. 

The  entire  Canadian  shore  of  Lake  Superior  might  be 
denominated  as  bold  and  rocky,  but  there  may  occasionally 
be  seen  a  line  of  the  smoothest  beach,  as  if  for  the  very  pur- 
pose  of  affording  protection  to  the  voyaging  Indians  when 
exposed  to  the  dangers  of  sudden  storms.  The  bluffs  are 
generally  of  a  green  sandstone,  and  frequently  rise  to  the 
height  of  five  hundred  feet  above  the  water,  like  massive  bul- 
warks, which  seem  to  have  battled  with  the  elements  for 
many  ages.  The  mountains  which  skirt  the  northern  shore 
of  Superior,  form  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  streams 
which  run  into  the  Lake  and  those  which  take  a  northerly 
direction  into  Hudson's  Bay.  After  passing  the  first  and 
most  lofty  range,  the  country  for  about  fifty  miles  is  mainly 
made  up  of  low  granite  hills,  when  it  settles  into  a  level 
wilderness,  extending,  as  is  supposed,  to  the  Arctic  Sea,  and 
where  tamarack  swamps  may  be  seen  in  their  greatest  per- 
fection.  This  entire  region  produces  but  little  for  purposes 
of  agriculture. 

The  two  most  prominent  peninsulas  on  this  shore  are 
called  Thunder  Cape  and  Carriboo  Point.  The  former  is 
about  fourteen  hundred  feet  high,  and  frowns  upon  the  waste 
of  waters,  like  a  crouching  lion,  which  animal  it  closely 
resembles  in  the  form  of  its  outline.  When  passing  near  its 
base,  it  looms  against  the  sky  in  awful  grandeur,  the  seeming 
lord  and  master  of  the  boundless  wilderness  world  around. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  137 

Carriboo  Point  is  less  lofty,  but  far-famed  on  account  of  the 
hieroglyphics  which  have  been  painted  upon  its  brow  in 
other  years,  by  an  Indian  race  now  supposed  to  be  extinct.  In 
the  vicinity  of  these  bluffs,  are  /ound  the  largest  and  most 
beautiful  agates  in  the  world. 

The  Canadian  shore  of  this  lake  abounds  in  rocky  islands* 
but  of  all  those  which  I  visited  there  is  only  one  deserving 
of  a  particular  notice.  It  lies  in  the  northeastern  part  of  the 
lake,  and  is  unquestionably  the  greatest  natural  curiosity  in 
this  wilderness, — not  even  excepting  the  Chippeway  Falls, 
the  Saint  Louis  River,  or  the  Pictured  Cliffs  on  the  southern 
shore  of  Superior.  I  visited  it  with  a  party  of  Indians  and 
miners,  and  the  former  informed  us,  that  we  were  the  first 
white  men  who  had  ever  ventured  to  explore  its  interior.  It  is 
found  about  twenty  miles  from  the  main  coast,  and  is  supposed 
to  be  about  a  dozen  miles  in  circumference.  The  shores  are  of 
sandstone,  and  for  the  most  part  rise  abruptly  from  the  water 
to  the  height  of  four  or  five  hundred  feet.  But  the  wonder 
is,  that  in  the  centre  of  this  island  lies  embosomed  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  lakes  imaginable.  It  is  about  a  mile  loner, 
and  the  perpendicular  cliffs  which  look  down  upon  it,  are  not 
far  from  seven  hundred  feet  in  height.  It  has  an  outlet, 
which  is  impassable  for  a  canoe,  on  account  of  the  rocks  and 
trees  that  have  blocked  up  the  narrow  chasm  ;  and  at  the 
opening  of  this  outlet  stands  a  column  of  solid  rock,  which 
we  estimated  to  be  eight  hundred  feet  high.  The  base  is 
probably  one  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  and  it  gradually  tapers 
off  to  about  twenty  feet  in  thickness,  while  the  summit  of 
this  singular  needle  is  surmounted  by  one  solitary  pine  tree. 
The  waters  of  this  inner  lake  are  clear,  but  have  a  blackish 
appearance,  and  are  very  deep.  It  is  so  completely  hidden 
from  the  surrounding  world,  that  the  passing  breeze  scarcely 
ever  ruflles  its  tranquil  bosom,  and  the  silence  which  reigns 
there,  even  at  noonday,  is  intense  and   almost  frightful.     In 


138  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


some  places  the  walls  which  surrounded  the  lake  appear  to 
have  been  recently  rent  asunder,  and  partly  demolished,  as 
there  were  immense  piles  of  broken  rocks  lying  at  their  base  ; 
while  in  other  places  the  upper  points  and  edges  are  over- 
grown with  moss,  and  from  their  brows  occasionally  depends 
a  cluster  of  fantastic  vines,  drooping  perpendicularly  to  the 
tranquil  water,  which  reproduces  the  beautiful  pictures  in  its 
translucent  bosom.  The  lake,  so  far  as  we  could  ascertain, 
is  destitute  of  fish,  and  the  island  of  animals ;  but  when  we 
were  there  gulls  of  every  variety,  and  in  immense  numbers, 
were  filling  the  air  with  their  wild  screams.  The  entire 
island  seems  to  be  composed  of  rocky  materials,  but  is  every 
where  covered  with  a  stunted  growth  of  vegetation.  I  spent 
one  day  rambling  over  this  singular  spot,  and  one  night 
slumbering  by  our  watch-fire  in  the  shadowy  cove  at  the 
mouth  of  the  ravine ;  and  at  dawn,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, we  boarded  our  feathery  canoes  and  were  joyfully 
skimming  "over  the  deep  waters  of  the  dark  blue  sea." 

Of  the  countless  Indian  legends,  which  create  a  kind  of 
classical  interest  in  the  scenery  of  Lake  Superior,  the  most 
singular  and  universal  have  reference  to  a  noted  personage 
whose  name  was  Menaboujou  ;  and  as  it  is  a  traditionary  fact, 
that  he  was,  owing  to  his  passion  for  water,  buried  in  the 
liquid  centre  of  the  island  I  have  described,  it  is  meet,  I 
ween,  that  I  should  devote  a  portion  of  this  chapter  to  a  record 
of  his  history.  He  was  the  Noah  as  well  as  the  Jonah  of 
this  portion  of  the  heathen  world,  and  is  said  to  have  been 
created  by  Manito  for  the  especial  purpose  of  acting  as  the 
ruler  of  all  men,  and  guardian  of  Lake  Superior  in  particu- 
lar; while  some  affirm  that  he  was  Manito  himself.  The 
Indians  describe  him  as  a  being  of  immense  size — who  could 
stride  across  the  widest  rivers  and  grasp  the  lightning  in  his 
hands,  and  whose  voice  was  like  the  roar  of  Superior  in  a 
storm.     They  also  affirm  that  he  excelled  in  all  the  arts  of 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  139 

war  ami  of  the  chase,  that  the  Chippcway  nation  are  his 
legitimate  descendants,  and  that  he  died  at  the  advanced  age 
of  one  thousand  winters.  At  the  mention  of  his  name  in  the 
Indian  lodges,  the  children  hush  their  prattle,  and  listen  with 
wonder  to  the  tales  which  are  sure  to  follow.  It  is  alleged 
that  he  was  gifted  with  the  strange  powers  of  the  necroman- 
cer, could  transform  himself  into  any  animal  or  inanimate 
object  in  nature,  at  a  moment's  warning,  and  was  wont  to  hold 
converse  with  every  living  creature  at  his  will.  There  is 
not  a  headland  on  Lake  Superior,  or  a  river  emptying  into 
it,  which  is  not  hallowed  in  Indian  story  by  his  wonderful 
exploits.  The  revolving  seasons  were  at  his  command.  He 
covered  the  earth  with  snow,  and  fettered  the  streams  in  ice. 
At  his  mandate  the  mountains  were  covered  with  verdure, 
and  northern  flowers  bloomed  in  surpassing  beauty.  He 
commanded,  and  the  terrible  storm-winds  broke  from  their 
prison  caves,  and  lashed  the  mighty  plain  of  waters  into  pure 
white  foam;  and  the  zephyr,  which  scarcely  caused  a  leaf  to 
tremble,  or  a  ripple  on  the  sleeping  waves,  was  also  attributed 
to  his  power.  In  fine,  the  qualifications  of  this  noted  indi- 
vidual were  as  numerous  as  they  seem  to  us  incongruous 
and  heathenish.  To  the  philosopher,  however,  these  glimpses 
into  the  mythology  of  the  aborigines  are  not  without  their 
value,  and  this  conviction  is  my  only  apology  for  recording 
them. 

The  death  of  Menaboujou  was  an  important  era  in  the 
history  of  the  Chippeway  nation.  During  his  life  the  calam- 
ities of  war  and  intemperance  were  unknown,  but  the  Evil 
One  having  challenged  him  to  mortal  combat,  a  desperate 
battle  was  fought  between  the  mighty  potentates,  which  re- 
sulted in  the  triumph  of  evil,  and  the  extinction  of  all  good, 
in  the  person  of  its  chief  author.  The  battle  occurred  in  the 
midst  of  a  thunder-storm  and  on  the  summit  of  Thunder  Cape, 
the  only  weapons  used  being  clubs  of  immense  size,  made 


140  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

of  the  pine  and  spruce ;  and  when  the  result  was  known,  a 
mournful  lamentation  was  heard  throughout  all  the  land. 
The  entire  Chippeway  nation  attended  the  funeral  of  the  de- 
parted, and  when  they  were  bearing  his  huge  corse  to  the 
lake  within  the  nameless  island,  a  rock  was  seen  to  rise  out 
of  the  water,  as  a  monument  planted  there  by  the  Great 
Spirit,  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  the  beloved  Menaboujou. 
The  rock  herein  alluded  to,  rises  to  the  height  of  about  thirty 
feet,  and  bears  an  astonishing  resemblance  to  a  human  head. 
I  took  a  drawing  of  this  rock,  and  look  upon  it  as  one  of  my 
rarest  curiosities. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Pailt  Saint  Marie,  August,  13445. 

Generally  speaking,  the  voyager  of  the  northwest  is  the 
shipping  merchant  of  the  wilderness;  for  his  principal  busi- 
ness is  to  transport  furs  from  the  interior  county  to  the  fron- 
tier settlements,  or  merchandise  from  the  settlements  into  the 
interior.  By  birth  he  is  half  French,  and  half  Indian,  but  in 
habits,  manners,  and  education,  a  full-blooded  Indian.  Like 
the  Indian,  his  home  is  where  he  may  happen  to  pitch  his 
tent.  His  usual  possessions  consist  of  a  good  supply  of  bark 
canoes,  and  he  ever  holds  himself  in  readiness,  either  to 
transport  goods,  or  act  as  a  guide  and  companion  to  the  tra- 
veller who  may  require  his  services.  His  dress  is  some- 
thing less  than  half  civilized,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  world 
equal  to  that  of  his  savage  brethren  ; — amiable  even  to  a 
fault,  but  intemperate  and  without  a  religion. 

It  was  in  a  company  of  some  fifty  men,  composed  of 
voyagers  and  Indians,  and  commanded  by  Allen  Morrison, 
that  I  performed  my  pilgrimage  to  the  head  waters  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  around  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior.  There 
were  ten  canoes  in  our  fleet  ;  the  largest  (about  forty  feet 
long)  was  occupied  by  Morrison,  myself,  and  five  picked 
men.  He  was  on  his  annual  visit  to  the  north,  to  attend  the 
Indian  payments,  and  the  great  majority  of  the  Indians 
travelled  under  his  flag,  partly  for  the  fun  of  it,  but  princi- 
pally for  the  purpose  of  drawing  upon  him  for  food,  which 
he  always  dealt  out  to  them  with  a  liberal  hand. 

7* 


142  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


Our  time  of  starting  was  at  day-break,  and  having  paddled 
three  pipes,  (about  eighteen  miles,)  we  generally  landed  upon 
a  pleasant  sand-bar,  or  in  some  leafy  nook,  and  spent  an  hour 
or  more  in  cooking  and  eating  our  breakfast.  A  "  pipe,"  I 
should  here  remark,  is  what  a  sporting  gentleman  might  call 
a  heat  of  six  miles,  at  the  end  of  which  our  oarsmen  would 
rest  themselves,  while  enjoying  asmoke  often  minutes.  Our 
principal  food  consisted  of  pork  and  dough,  which  were  inva- 
riably boiled  in  a  tin  kettle.  Whenever  we  happened  to  have 
any  game,  or  fish,  this  rarity  was  also  placed  in  the  same 
kettle  with  the  pork  and  dough,  all  of  which  we  disposed  of 
with  the  assistance  of  our  fingers  and  a  large  knife.  As 
Mr.  Morrison  and  myself  were  acknowledged  to  belong  to 
the  "  first  class"  of  people,  we  were  privileged  to  use  (with- 
out giving  offence)  a  small  quantity  of  tea  and  maple  sugar, 
which  we  had  brought  with  us.  Simple  as  was  our  food,  it 
was  as  wholesome,  and  at  that  time  as  palatable  to  my  taste, 
as  any  that  I  could  have  obtained  from  Delmonico's.  I  was 
in  the  habit  of  devouring,  and  digesting  too,  long  strings  of 
heavy  dough,  which  would,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
have  actually  destroyed  me.  Our  meals,  however,  were 
always  looked  forward  to  with  unalloyed  pleasure,  and  were 
considered  a  luxury  to  be  enjoyed  only  twice  during  the  day, 
— breakfasting,  as  we  did,  at  ten,  and  supping  soon  after 
pitching  our  tents  in  the  evening.  Fifty  miles  per  day,  when 
there  were  no  portages  or  rapids  to  pass,  were  generally  con- 
sidered a  good  run.  The  two  or  three  hours  before  bed- 
time I  generally  spent  in  conversation  with  Morrison,  the 
voyagers,  or  Indians, — and  usually  retired  with  my  head  as 
full  of  wilderness  images,  as  a  bee-hive  at  swarming  time. 
The  only  trouble  with  my  ideas  was,  that  they  created  a 
great  excitement,  but  would  not  swarm  according  to  my  will. 
My  couch  (a  part  of  which  was  appropriated  to  Morrison) 
consisted  of  a  soft  spot  of  ground,  while  my  gun  and  pouch 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  113 


answered  for  a  pillow,  and  my  only  covering  was  a  large 
green  blanket.  When  the  weather  was  clear  we  did  not 
pitch  our  tent,  but  slept  under  a  tree,  or  used  the  star-studded 
sky  for  a  canopy.  After  such  a  night,  I  have  awakened, 
and  found  my  blanket  actually  white  with  frozen  dew. 

The  pleasures  of  this  mode  of  travelling  are  manifold. 
The  scenery  that  you  pass  through  is  of  the  wildest  charac 
ter,  the  people  you  meet  with  "  are  so  queer,"  and  there  is 
a  charm  in  the  very  mystery  and  sense  of  danger  which  at- 
tend the  windings  of  a  wilderness  stream,  or  the  promontories 
and  bays  of  a  lonely  lake.  The  only  apparent  miseries  which 
befall  the  voyager,  are  protracted  rain  storms  and  musketoes. 
On  one  occasion,  while  coasting  Lake  Superior,  we  were 
overtaken  by  a  sudden  storm,  but  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
shore  (about  a  mile  off)  without  being  swamped.  It  was 
about  sundown,  and  owing  to  the  wind  and  rain  we  were  un- 
able to  make  a  fire,  and  consequently  went  supperless  to 
bed.  For  my  part,  I  looked  upon  our  condition  as  perfectly 
wretched,  and  cared  little  what  became  of  me.  We  had 
landed  on  a  fine  beach,  where  we  managed  to  pitch  our 
tents,  and  there  threw  ourselves  down  for  the  purpose  of 
slecnino-:  and  though  wet  to  the  skin,  I  never  slept  more 
sweetly  in  my  life, — for  the  roaring  of  Lake  Superior  in  a 
storm  is  a  most  glorious  lullaby.  On  the  following  morning, 
I  was  awakened  by  the  surf  washing  against  my  feet. 

As  to  musketoes,  had  I  not  taken  with  me  a  quantity  of 
bar  netting,  I  positively  believe  the  creatures  would  have 
eaten  me.  But  with  this  covering  fastened  to  four  sticks,  I 
could  defy  the  wretches,  and  I  was  generally  lulled  to  sleep 
by  their  annoying  hum,  which  sometimes  seemed  to  me  like 
the  howls  of  infernal  spirits. 

The  only  animals  which  ever  had  the  daring  to  annoy 
us,  were  a  species  of  gray  wolf,  which  sometimes  succ< H  'led 
in  robbing  us  of  our  food.     On  one  occasion,  I  remember  wc 


144  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

had  a  short  allowance  of  pork,  and  for  the  purpose  of  pro- 
tecting it  with  greater  care  than  usual,  Mr.  Morrison  had 
placed  it  in  a  bag  under  his  head,  when  he  went  to  sleep. 

"  At  midnight,  in  his  wn-guarded  tent,"  his  head  was  sud- 
denly thumped  against  the  ground,  and  by  the  time  he  was 
fairly  awakened,  he  had  the  peculiar  satisfaction  of  seeing  a 
wolf,  on  the  keen  run,  with  the  bag  of  pork. 

The  more  prominent  incidents  connected  with  canoe  voy- 
aging, which  relieve  the  monotony  of  a  long  voyage,  are  the 
making  of  portages,  the  passing  of  rapids,  and  the  singing  of 
songs. 

Portages  .are  made  for  the  purpose  of  getting  below  or 
above  those  falls  which  could  not  be  passed  in  any  other  man- 
ner, also  for  the  purpose  of  going  from  one  stream  to  another, 
and  sometimes  they  are  made  to  shorten  the  distance  to  be 
travelled,  by  crossing  points  or  peninsulas.  It  was  invariably 
the  habit  of  our  voyagers  to  run  a  race,  when  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  portage,  and  they  did  not  consider  it  ended  until 
their  canoes  were  launched  in  the  water  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  portage.  The  consequence  of  this  singular  custom  is, 
that  making  a  portage  is  exceedingly  exciting  business. 
Two  men  will  take  the  largest  canoe  upon  their  shoulders, 
and  cross  the  portage  on  a  regular  trot,  stopping,  however, 
to  rest  themselves  and  enjoy  a  pipe  at  the  end  of  everv 
thousand  paces.  At  landing  the  canoe  is  not  allowed  to  touch 
the  bottom,  but  you  must  get  out  into  the  water  and  unload 
it  while  yet  afloat.  The  loads  of  furs  or  merchandise  which 
these  men  sometimes  carry  are  enormous.  I  have  seen  a 
man  convey  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  up  a  steep  hill, 
two  hundred  feet  high,  and  that  too  without  once  stop- 
ping to  rest  ;  and  I  heard  the  story,  that  there  were 
three  voyagers  in  the  northern  wilderness,  who  have  been 
known,  unitedly,  to  carry  twenty-one  hundred  -pounds  over  a 
portage  of  eight  miles.    In  making  portages  it  is  occasionally 


SUMMER    IN    TIIE    WILDERNESS.  145 

necessary  to  traverse  tamarack  swamps,  and  the  most  horrible 
one  in  the  northwest  lies  midway  between  Sandy  Lake 
and  the  Saint  Louis  River.  It  is  about  nine  miles  in  length, 
and  a  thousand  fold  more  difficult  to  pass  than  the  Slough 
of  Despond,  created  by  the  mind  of  Bunyan.  In  crossing  it, 
you  sometimes  have  to  wade  in  pure  mud  up  to  your  middle  ; 
and  on  this  route  I  counted  the  wrecks  of  no  less  than  seven 
canoes,  which  had  been  abandoned  by  the  over-fatigued  voy- 
agers ;  and  I  also  noticed  the  grave  of  an  unknown  foreigner, 
who  had  died  in  this  horrible  place,  from  the  effect  of  a 
poisonous  root  which  he  had  eaten.  Here,  in  this  gloomy 
solitude  had  he  breathed  his  last,  with  none  to  cool  his  fever- 
ish brow  but  a  poor  ignorant  Indian  ; — alone  and  more  than 
a  thousand  leagues  from  his  kindred  and  home. 

But  the  excitement  of  passing  the  rapids  of  a  large  river 
like  the  Mississippi,  exceeds  that  of  any  other  operation  con- 
nected with  voyaging.  The  strength,  dexterity,  and  courage 
required  and  employed  for  passing  them,  are  truly  astonish- 
ing. I  have  been  in  a  canoe,  and  on  account  of  a  stone  or 
floating  tree  have  seen  it  held  for  some  minutes  perfectly 
still,  when  midway  up  a  foaming  rapid,  merely  by  two  men 
with  long  poles,  standing  at  each  end  of  the  canoe.  If,  at 
such  a  time,  one  of  the  poles  should  slip,  or  one  of  the  men 
make  a  wrong  move,  the  canoe  would  be  taken  by  the  water 
and  dashed  to  pieces  either  on  the  surrounding  rocks,  or  the 
still  more  rocky  shore.  It  is,  however,  much  more  danger- 
ous to  descend  than  to  ascend  a  rapid  ;  for  it  is  then  almost 
impossible  to  stop  a  canoe,  when  under  full  headway,  and  if 
you  happen  to  strike  a  rock,  you  will  find  your  wafcry  canoe 
no  better  than  a  sieve.  To  pass  down  the  falls  of  Saint 
Mary,  with  an  experienced  voyager,  is  one  of  the  most  inte- 
resting, yet  thrilling  and  fearful  feats  that  can  be  performed. 
There  are  rapids  and   falls,  however,  which  cannot  at  any 


146  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

time  be  passed  with  safety,  and  my  escape  from  one  of  these 
was  as  follows  : 

In  making  the  Grand  Portage  in  the  Saint  Louis,  owing 
to  the  rugged  character  of  the  country,  it  is  necessary  to  land 
your  canoes  only  a  few  yards  above  a  succession  of  falls 
that  descend  into  a  pool  thirty  feet  below.  Owing  to  the 
thoughtlessness  of  our  pilot,  our  canoe  was  suffered  to  go 
nearer  than  was  customary,  when  Morrison  uttered  a  most 
fearful  shout,  and  said  that  we  were  within  the  charmed 
circle,  and  unless  we  strained  every  nerve  to  the  utmost,  we 
must  surely  perish.  By  that  time  we  were  on  the  very 
verge  of  the  cataract,  but  we  sprang  to  the  paddles  with  all 
our  might,  and  "  the  boldest  held  his  breath."  The  agony 
that  we  suffered  cannot  be  expressed ; — it  lasted,  however, 
only  for  a  moment ;  we  soon  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
shore,  but  our  brows  were  heavily  beaded,  and  we  threw  our- 
selves upon  the  green-sward,  actually  trembling  with  exces- 
sive feebleness.  As  may  be  supposed,  the  remainder  of  that 
day  was  solemnly  spent,  for  our  minds  were  continually 
haunted  by  the  grim  visage  of  death. 

One  of  the  more  prominent  traits  of  the  voyager's  char- 
acter is  his  cheerfulness.  Gay  and  mirthful  by  nature  and 
habit — patient  and  enduring  at  labor — seeking  neither  ease 
nor  wealth — and,  though  fond  of  his  family,  it  is  his  custom  to 
let  the  morrow  take  care  of  itself,  while  he  will  endeavor  to 
improve  the  present  hour  as  he  thinks  proper.  He  belongs 
to  a  race  which  is  entirely  distinct  from  all  others  on  the 
globe.  It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  when  most  troubled,  or 
when  enduring  the  severest  hardships,  they  will  joke,  laugh, 
and  sing  their  uncouth  songs — the  majority  of  which  are  ex- 
temporaneous, appropriate  to  the  occasion,  and  generally  of 
a  rude  and  licentious  character.  They  are  invariably  sung 
in  Canadian  French,  and  the  following  literal  translations 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  147 


may  be   looked    upon    as   favorable   specimens,  which  I  first 
heard  on  the  Mississippi. 


Gjn  Starting. 

Home,  we  are  leaving  thee  ! 
River,  on  thy  bosom  to  sail ! 
Cheerful  let  our  hearts  be, 
Supported  by  hope. 
Away,  thru,  away  !     Away,  then,  away  ! 

Scenes  of  beauty  will  we  pass  ; 
Scenes  that  make  us  love  our  life  ; 
Game  of  the  wilderness  our  food, 
And  our  slumbers  guarded  by  the  stars. 
Away,  then,  away  !     Away,  then,  away  ! 

Home,  we  are  leaving  thee  ! 
River,  on  thy  bosom  to  sail ! 
Cheerful  let  our  hearts  be, 
Supported  by  hope. 
Away,  then,  away  !     Away,  then,  away  ! 


The  river  that  we  sail 
Is  the  pride  of  our  country  ; 
The  women  that  we  love 
Are  the  fairest  upon  earth. 
Row,  then,  row  !     Row,  then,  row ! 

Toilsome  is  our  way, 
Dangerous  is  our  way  ; 
But  what  matter  ? 
Our  trust  is  in  Providence. 
Row,  then,  row  !     Row,  then,  row. 


148  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  river  that  we  sail 
Is  the  pride  of  our  country  ; 
The  women  that  we  love 
Are  the  fairest  upon  earth. 
Row,  then,  row  !     Row,  then,  row  ! 


£f)e  Return. 

Joy,  joy,  our  home  is  not  far ; 
Love-smiles  are  waiting  us  ; 
And  we  shall  be  happy  ! 
Happy,  happy,  happy. 
Bend  to  your  oars  !     Bend  to  your  oars  ! 

Loud,  loud,  let  our  voices  be, 
Echoing  our  gratitude  ; 
Many  leagues  have  we  voyaged, 
But  soon  shall  we  be  at  rest. 
Bend  to  your  oars,  brothers !     Bend  to  your  oars  ! 

J°y>  j°y>  our  home  is  in  sight ; 
Love-smiles  are  waiting  us, 
And  we  shall  be  happy  ! 
Happy,  happy,  happy  ! 
Home  !     Bend  to  your  oars !     Bend  to  your  oars  ! 


The  same  canoe  in  which  I  explored  the  upper  thousand 
miles  of  the  Mississippi,  also  bore  me  in  safety  around  the 
shores  of  Lake  Superior  :  first,  eastward,  along  the  northern 
shore,  then  back  again  to  Fon  du  Lac,  and  afterwards  along 
the  southern  shore  to  the  Apostle  Islands.  Delighted  as  1 
was  with  my  canoe  wanderings  on  the  head  waters  of  the 
Mighty  River,  I  am  constrained  to  yield  the  palm  to 
Superior.  For  weeks  did  I  explore  its  picturesque  bays  and 
extended  sweeps  of  shore,  following  the  promptings  of  my 
wayward  will,  and  storing  my  mind  with  its  unnumbered 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  149 

-* i     ■  ,—    ■   ■  —  -.  ■  ■■  —      — -    ■ 

legends,  gathered  from  the  lips  of  my  Indian  companions. 
I  seldom  took  a  paddle  in  band,  unless  it  were  for  exercise, 
but  usually  employed  my  time,  when  the  weather  was  calm, 
by  reading  or  sketching  ;  and  often,  when  the  sunshine  made 
me  sleepy,  have  I  teen  lulled  into  a  dreamy  repose,  by  the 
measured  music  of  the  oars,  mingled  with  the  wild  chanting 
of  the  voyagers.  It  was  the  custom  with  my  companions, 
whenever  they  caught  me  in  those  lucid  intervals  of  joy,  to 
startle  me,  by  a  piercing  whoop,  which  invariably  announced 
a  race  upon  the  watery  plain.  And  then,  indeed,  was  it  a 
most  exciting  spectacle  to  witness  the  canoes  gliding  to  the 
destined  goal,  almost  as  swift  as  "  an  arrow  from  a  shiver- 
ing bow."  Whenever  I  expressed  such  a  desire,  the  party 
came  to  a  halt  upon  the  shore,  and  then  it  was  that  I  mounted 
the  headlands  to  gather  berries,  or  obtain  a  bird's-eye  pros- 
pect of  the  Lake.  At  times,  the  roar  of  a  distant  waterfall 
would  fall  upon  the  ear,  and  I  was  wont  to  beg  an  hour's 
furlough  for  the  purpose  of  catching  a  dozen  or  two  of  trout 
in  the  waters  of  a  nameless  stream.  But  my  chief  employ- 
ment, whenever  we  landed,  was  to  gather  agates  and  pebbles 
of  loveliest  hue.  In  many  places  the  gravelly  shores  were 
completely  covered  with  them  ;  and  often,  when  attracted  by 
one  of  a  particular  color  or  an  unusual  size,  and  when  de- 
ceived by  the  marvellous  transparency  of  the  water,  have  I 
found  myself  far  beyond  my  depth  in  the  sleeping  waves, 
which  event  was  about  the  only  one  that  could  bring  me  to 
my  senses.  Many  a  time  and  oft,  like  a  very  child,  have  I 
rambled  along  the  beach  for  miles,  returning  to  my  canoe 
completely  loaded  down  with  my  treasures,  which  I  some- 
times carried  with  me  on  my  journey  for  a  hundred  miles, 
and  then  threw  away  to  make  room  for  others  which  I 
thought  still  more  beautiful.  Delightful,  indeed,  were  those 
summer  days  on  the  bosom  of  that  lonely  lake.  They  are 
associated  witB  my  treasured  dreams,  and  I  cannot  but  sigh 


150  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

when  I  remember  that  I  may  never  be  privileged  to  enjoy 
the  like  again.  My  reason  would  not  stop  the  tide  of  civili- 
zation which  is  sweeping  to  the  remote  north  and  the  far  Pa- 
cific, but  if  the  wishes  of  my  heart  were  realized,  none  but 
the  true  worshippers  of  nature  should  ever  be  permitted  to 
mar  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness  with  the  song  of  Mammon. 
But,  if  that  were  possible,  the  nights  that  I  spent  upon 
the  shores  of  the  great  northern  lake  have  made  a  deeper 
impression  on  my  heart  than  those  summer  days.  Never 
before  had  the  ocean  of  the  sky  and  the  starry  world  ap- 
peared so  supremely  brilliant.  Seldom  would  my  restless 
spirit  allow  me  an  unbroken  slumber  from  nightfall  until 
dawn,  and  I  was  often  in  a  wakeful  mood,  even  after  the 
camp  fires  were  entirely  out,  and  my  rude  companions  were 
in  the  embrace  of  slumber.  One  of  those  wonderful  nights 
I  never  can  forget.  I  had  risen  from  my  couch  upon  the 
sand,  and  after  walking  nearly  half  a  mile  along  the  beach, 
I  passed  a  certain  point,  and  found  myself  in  full  view  of 
the  following  scene,  of  which  I  was  the  solitary  spectator. 
Black,  and  death-like  in  its  repose,  was  the  apparently 
illimitable  plain  of  water ;  above  its  outline,  on  the  left,  were 
the  strangely  beautiful  northern  lights,  shooting  their  rays  to 
the  very  zenith ;  on  the  right  was  a  clear  full  moon,  making 
a  silvery  pathway  from  my  feet  to  the  horizon  ;  and  before, 
around,  and  above  me,  floating  in  the  deep  cerulean,  were 
the  unnumbered  and  mysterious  stars — the  jewels  of  the 
Most  High.  The  only  sound  that  fell  upon  my  car  was  the 
occasional  splash  of  a  tiny  wave,  as  it  melted  upon  the  shore. 
Long  and  intently  did  I  gaze  upon  the  scene,  until,  in  a  kind 
of  blissful  frenzy,  or  bewilderment,  I  staggered  a  few  paces, 
fell  upon  the  earth,  almost  insensible,  and  was  soon  in  a  deep 
sleep.  The  first  gleam  of  sunshine  roused  me  from  slumber, 
and  I  returned  to  our  encampment  perfectly  well  in  body 
but  in  a  thoughtful   and  unhappy  mood.     In  fact,  it  seemed 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1 .')  1 

to  me  that  I  bad  visited  the  spiritual  world,  and  I  wished  to 
return  hence  once  more.     My  friends  had  Dot  wondered  at 

my  absence,  when  they  awoke,  for  they  supposed  that  I  had 
gone  merely  to  take  my  accustomed  bath.  But  enough, 
enough.  The  voyager's  life  is  indeed  a  romantic  one,  but 
it  will  not  do  for  me  to  talk  about  it  for  ever,  and  I  therefore 
bring  my  description  to  a  close. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Sault  Saint  Marie,  August,  164G. 

I  am  the  owner  of  a  few  shares  of  copper  stock,  but  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  to  dispose  of  my  interest,  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  and  on  the  most  reasonable  terms.  This 
remark  defines  my  position  with  regard  to  copper  in  general, 
and  may  be  looked  upon  as  the  text  from  which  I  shall  pro- 
ceed to  make  a  few,  a  very  few,  general  observations  on  the 
copper  region  of  Lake  Superior.  I  am  curious  to  find  out 
how  it  will  seem,  for  the  public  at  large  to  read  something 
which  is  not  a  purchased  puff.  Those,  therefore,  who  are 
unaccustomed  to  simple  matters  of  fact,  will  please  pass  on 
to  another  chapter  of  my  little  book,  or  lay  it  down  as  the 
most  insipid  volume  that  was  ever  published. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  all  the  hills  and  mountains 
surrounding  this  immense  lake,  abound  in  valuable  minerals, 
of  which  the  copper,  in  every  variety  of  form,  is  the  most 
abundant.  The  lamented  Douglas  Houghton  has  published 
the  opinion,  that  this  region  contains  the  most  extensive  cop- 
per mines  in  the  known  world.  The  discoveries  which 
have  been  made  during  the  last  three  years  would  lead  one 
to  suppose  this  opinion  to  be  founded  in  truth. 

Not  to  mention  the  ship  loads  of  rich  ore  that  I  have 
seen  at  different  times,  I  would,  merely  to  give  my  reader 
an  idea  of  what  is  doing  here,  give  the  weight  of  a  few  dis- 
tinguished discoveries  that  I  have  actually  seen. 

The  native  copper  boulder,  discovered  by  the  traveller 
Henry,  in  the  bed  of  the  Ontonagon  river,  and  now  in  Wash- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  153 

ington,  originally  weighed  thirty-eight  hundred  pounds  ;  a 
copper  mass  of  the  same  material  was  lately  found  near 
Copper  Harbor,  weighing  twelve  hundred  pounds;  at  Cop- 
per Falls  the  miners  are  now  at  work  upon  a  vein  of  solid 
ore,  which  already  measures  twenty  feet  in  length,  nine  in 
depth,  and  seven  and  a  half  inches  in  thickness,  which  must 
weigh  a  number  of  tons  ;  and  at  Eagle  River  another  boul- 
der has  lately  been  brought  to  light,  weighing  seventeen 
hundred  pounds. 

As  to  native  silver,  the  Eagle  River  valley  has  yielded 
the  largest  specimen  yet  found  about  this  lake,  the  weight 
of  which  was  six  pounds  and  ten  ounces.     These  are  mineral 
statistics   from  which  may  be  drawn  as  great  a  variety  of 
conclusions  as  there  are  minds. 

The  number  of  mining  companies  which  purport  to  be 
in  operation  on  the  American  shore  of  Lake  Superior  and 
on  our  islands,  is  said  to  be  one  hundred  ;  and  the  number 
of  stock  shares  is  not  far  from  three  hundred  thousand.  But 
notwithstanding  all  the  fuss  that  has  been,  and  is  still  made, 
about  the  mining  operations  here,  a  smelting  furnace  has 
not  yet  been  erected,  and  only  three  companies,  up  to  the 
present  time,  have  made  any  shipments  of  ore.  The  oldest 
of  these  is  the  Lake  Superior  Company  ;  the  most  success* 
ful,  the  Pittsburg  and  Boston  Company  ;  and  the  other  is 
the  Copper  Falls  Company,  all  of  which  are  confined  in 
their  operations  to  Point  Keweenaw. 

This  point  is  at  present  the  centre  of  attraction  to  those 
who  are  worshipping  the  copper  Mammon  of  the  age.  It  is 
a  mountainous  district,  covered  with  a  comparatively  use- 
less pine  forest,  exceedingly  rocky  and  not  distinguished  for 
its  beautiful  scenery.  As  to  the  great  majority  of  the  mining 
companies  alluded  to,  they  will  undoubtedly  sink  a  good 
deal  more  money  than  they  can  possibly  make ;  and  for  the 
reason,  that  they  are   not  possessed  of  sufficient  capital  to 


154  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

carry  on  the  mining  business  properly,  and  are  managed  by 
inexperienced  and  visionary  men — a  goodly  number  of 
whom  have  failed  in  every  business  in  which  they  ever 
figured,  and  who  are  generally  adventurers,  determined  to 
live  by  speculation  instead  of  honest  labor.  The  two  princi- 
pal log  cabin  cities  of  Point  Keweenaw  are  Copper  Harbor 
and  Eagle  River.  The  former  is  quite  a  good  harbor,  and 
supports  a  vacated  garrison,  a  newspaper,  a  very  good  board- 
ing-house, and  several  intemperance  establishments.  The 
latter  has  a  fine  beach  for  a  harbor,  a  boarding-house,  a  saw- 
mill, and  a  store,  where  drinking  is  the  principal  business 
transacted.  The  number  of  resident  inhabitants  in  the  two 
towns  I  was  unable  to  learn,  but  the  sum  total  I  suppose 
would  amount  to  fifty  souls. 

Altogether  perhaps  five  hundred  miners  and  clerks  may 
be  engaged  on  the  whole  Point,  while  about  as  many  more, 
during  the  summer,  are  hanging  about  the  general  stopping 
places  on  the  shore,  or  the  working  places  in  the  interior. 
This  brotherhood  is  principally  composed  of  upstart  geolo- 
gists, explorers,  and  location  speculators.  From  all  that  I 
can  learn,  about  the  same  state  of  things  exists  on  the 
Canada  side  of  the  lake.  Twenty  companies  are  already 
organized  for  that  section  of  country,  the  most  promising  of 
which  is  the  Montreal  Mining  Company ;  but  not  a  pound 
of  ore  has  yet  been  smelted  or  taken  to  market,  so  that  the 
"  subject  theme,"  for  the  present,  is  as  barren  of  real  in- 
terest there,  as  in  our  own  territory.  Rationally  speaking, 
the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is  just  this  :  the  Lake 
Superior  region  undoubtedly  abounds  in  valuable  minerals, 
but  as  yet  a  sufficient  length  of  time  has  not  elapsed  to 
develop  its  resources ;  three  quarters  of  the  people  (the  re- 
maining quarter  are  among  the  most  worthy  of  the  land) 
now  engaged  in  mining  operations,  are  what  might  be  termed 
dishonest   speculators  and  inexperienced   adventurers :  but 


.SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1  55 

there  is  no  doubt  that  if  a  new  order  of  tilings  should  bo 
brought  into  existence  here,  all  those  who  are  prudent  and 
industrious  would  accumulate  fortunes. 

I  ought  not  to  leave  this  brazen  theme,  without  alluding 
to  the  science  of  geology  as  patronized  in  the  mineral  region. 
Not  only  docs  the  nabob  stockholder  write  pamphlets  about 
the  mines  of  the  Ural  mountains,  and  other  neighboring  re- 
gions, but  even  the  broken  down  New- York  merchant,  who 
now  sells  whisky  to  the  poor  miner,  strokes  his  huge  whis- 
kers and  descants  upon  the  black  oxyd,  the  native  ore,  and 
the  peculiar  formation  of  every  hillside  in  the  country. 
Without  exception,  I  believe,  all  the  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren residing  in  the  copper  cities,  have  been  crystalized 
into  finished  geologists.  It  matters  not  how  limited  their 
knowledge  of  the  English  language  may  be,  for  they  look 
only  to  the  surface  of  things ;  it  matters  not  how  empty  of 
common  sense  their  brain-chambers  may  be,  they  are 
wholly  absorbed  in  sheeting  their  minds  and  hearts  with  the 
bright  red  copper,  and  are  all  loudly  eloquent  on  their  favor- 
ite theme. 

But  the  grand  lever  which  they  use  to  advance  their  in- 
terests, is  the  word  "  conglomerate,"  which  answers  as  a 
general  description  of  the  surrounding  country.  You  stand 
upon  a  commanding  hill-top,  and  while  lost  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  fine  landscape,  a  Copper  Harbor  "bear':  or 
"  bull,'"  recently  from  Wall-street,  will  slap  you  on  the 
shoulder  and  startle  the  surrounding  air  with  the  following 
yell  :  "That  whole  region,  sir,  is  conglomerate,  and  exceed- 
ingly rich  in  eopper  and  silver."'  You  ask  your  landlady 
for  a  drop  of  milk  to  flavor  your  coffee,  and  she  will  tell  you 
"that  her  husband  has  exchanged  the  old  red  cow  for  a  con- 
glomerate location  somewhere  in  the  interior,"  thereby  pro- 
ving that  a  comfortable  living  is  a  secondary  consideration 
in  this  life.     You  happen  to  see  a  little  girl  arranging  some 


156  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

rocky  specimens  in  her  baby-house,  and  on  your  asking  her 
name,  she  will  probably  answer — "  Conglomerate  the  man  ! 
my  name,  sir,  is  Jane."  But  enough.  It  will  not  do  for 
me  to  continue  in  this  strain,  for  fear  that  my  readers  will, 
like  my  mining  friends,  be  made  crazy  by  a  remarkable 
conglomerate  literary  specimen  from  the  mineral  region. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Sault  Saint  Marie,  August,  1846. 

One  more  letter  from  this  place,  and  I  shall  take  my 
leave  of  Lake  Superior.  Saint  Mary  was  formerly  a  trading 
post  of  renown  :  it  is  now  a  village  of  considerable  business  ; 
and  as  the  resources  of  the  mineral  region  are  developed, 
will  undoubtedly  become  a  town  of  importance  in  a  commer- 
cial point  of  view ;  and  the  contemplated  ship  canal  through 
this  place  (which  would  allow  a  boat  from  Buffalo  to  dis- 
charge her  freight  or  passengers  at  Fond  Du  Lac)  ought  not 
to  be  delayed  a  single  year.  There  is  a  garrison  at  this 
point ;  the  society  is  good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  and  in  the 
summer  season  it  is  one  of  the  busiest  little  places  in  the 
country.  But  I  intend  this  to  be  a  piscatorial  letter,  and 
must  therefore  change  my  tune. 

The  river  Saint  Mary,  opposite  this  village,  is  about  two 
miles  wide,  and  having  found  its  way  out  of  a  deep  bay  of 
the  ocean  lake,  it  here  rushes  ever  a  ledge  of  rocks  in  great 
fury,  and  presents,  for  the  distance  of  nearly  a  mile,  a  per- 
fect sheet  of  foam,  and  this  spot  is  called  the  Sault,  signify- 
ing falls.  The  entire  height  of  the  fall  is  about  thirty  feet, 
and  after  the  waters  have  expressed  in  a  murmuring  roar, 
their  unwillingness  to  leave  the  bosom  of  Superior,  they 
finally  hush  themselves  to  sleep,  and  glide  onward,  as  if  in  a 
dream,  along  the  picturesque  shores  of  a  lonely  country, 
until  they  mingle  with  the  waters  of  Lake  Huron. 

The  principal  fish  of  this  ife'gion  are  trout  and  white-fish, 

8 


158  SUMMER    IN    THE   WILDERNESS. 

which  are  among  the  finest  varieties  in  the  world,  and  are 
here  found  in  their  greatest  perfection.  Of  the  trout,  the 
largest  species  in  Lake  Superior  is  called  the  lake  trout,  and 
they  vary  from  ten  to  sixty  pounds  in  weight.  Their  flesh 
is  precisely  similar  to  that  of  the  salmon  in  appearance,  and 
they  are  full  as  delicious  as  an  article  of  food.  The  Indians 
take  them  in  immense  quantities  with  the  gill  net  during  the 
spring  and  summer,  where  the  water  is  one  hundred  feet 
deep  ;  but  in  the  autumn,  when  the  fish  hover  about  the 
shores  for  the  purpose  of  spawning,  the  Indians  catch  them 
with  the  spear  by  torch-light.  They  also  have  a  mode  of 
taking  them  in  the  winter  through  the  ice.  After  reaching 
the  fishing  ground,  they  cut  a  hole  in  the  ice,  over  which 
they  erect  a  kind  of  wigwam,  and  in  which  they  seat  them- 
selves for  action.  They  attach  a  piece  of  meat  to  a  cord  as 
bait,  which  they  lower  and  pull  up  for  the  purpose  of  attract- 
ing the  trout,  thereby  alluring  the  unsuspecting  creature  to 
the  top  of  the  hole,  when  they  pick  it  out  with  a  spear.  An 
Indian  has  been  known  to  catch  a  thousand  weight  in  one 
day,  in  this  novel  manner.  But  as  the  ice  on  Lake  Superior 
is  seldom  suffered  to  become  very  thick  on  account  of  the 
frequent  storms,  it  is  often  that  these  solitary  fishermen  are 
borne  away  from  the  shore  and  perish  in  the  bosom  of  the 
deep. 

My  mode  of  fishing  for  lake  trout,  however,  was  with 
the  hook.     In  coasting  along;  the  lake  in  mv  canoe  I  some- 

DO  J 

times  threw  out  about  two  hundred  feet  of  line,  to  which 
was  attached  a  stout  hook  and  a  piece  of  pork,  and  I  seldom 
tried  this  experiment  for  an  hour  without  capturing  a  fifteen 
or  twenty  pounder.  At  other  times,  when  the  lake  was  still, 
and  I  was  in  the  mood,  I  have  paddled  to  where  the  water 
was  fifty  feet  in  depth,  and  with  a  drop-line  have  taken,  in 
twenty  minutes,  more  trout  than  I  could  eat  in  a  fortnight, 
which  I  generally  distributed  among  my  Indian  companions. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  159 

A  fish  called  ciscovet,  is  unquestionably  of  the  trout 
genus,  but  much  more  delicious  and  seldom  found  to  weigh 
more  than  a  dozen  pounds.  They  are  a  very  beautiful  fish, 
and  at  the  present  time  are  decidedly  the  fattest  I  have 
ever  seen.  Their  habits  are  similar  to  those  of  the  trout, 
and  they  are  taken  in  the  same  manner. 

But  the  fish  of  this  region,  and  of  the  world,  is  the  com- 
mon trout.  The  five  rivers  which  empty  into  Lake  Superior 
on  the  north,  and  the  thirty  streams  which  run  from  the  south, 
all  abound  in  this  superb  fish,  which  vary  from  ten  to  forty 
ounces  in  weight.  But  the  finest  place  for  this  universal 
favorite,  in  the  known  world,  is,  without  any  doubt,  the  Falls 
of  Saint  Mary.  At  this  place  they  are  in  season  throughout 
the  year,  from  which  circumstance  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
that  there  must  be  several  varieties,  which  closely  resemble 
each  other.  At  one  time  you  may  fish  all  day  and  not  cap- 
ture a  single  specimen  that  will  weigh  over  a  pound,  and  at 
another  time  you  may  take  a  boat-load  of  them  which  will 
average  from  three  to  four  pounds  in  weight.  You  may 
accuse  me  of  telling  a  large  story  when  I  speak  of  boat-loads 
of  trout,  but  I  do  assure  you  that  such  sights  are  of  frequent 
occurrence  at  the  Sault.  My  favorite  mode  of  trouting  at 
this  place  has  been  to  enter  a  canoe  and  cast  anchor  at  the 
foot  of  the  rapids,  where  the  water  was  ten  or  fifteen  feet 
deep,  but  owing  to  its  marvellous  clearness  appeared  to  be 
about  three,  and  where  the  bed  of  the  river  or  strait  is  com- 
pletely covered  with  snow-white  rocks.  I  usually  fished 
with  a  fly  or  artificial  minnow,  and  was  never  disappointed 
in  catching  a  fine  assortment  whenever  I  went  out.  My 
favorite  spot  was  about  midway  between  the  American  and 
Canadian  shores,  and  there  have  1  spent  whole  days  enjoying 
the  rarest  of  sport ;  now  looking  with  wonder  at  the  wall  of 
foam  between  me  and  the  mighty  lake  ;  now  gazing  upon 
the  dreamy-looking  scenery  on  either  side  and  far  below  me  ; 


160  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

and  anon  peering  into  the  clear  water  to  watch  the  move- 
ments of  the  trout  as  they  darted  from  the  shady  side  of  one 
rock  to  another,  or  leaped  completely  out  of  their  native  ele- 
ment to  seize  the  hovering  fly.  During  all  this  time  my 
spirit  would  be  lulled  into  a  delightful  peacefulness,  by  the 
solemn  roar  of  the  Sault.  I  have  taken  trout  in  more  than 
one  half  of  the  United  States,  but  have  never  seen  a  spot 
where  they  were  so  abundant  as  in  this  region,  but  I  must 
acknowledge  that  there  are  streams  in  New  England  and 
New-York  where  I  have  thrown  the  fly  with  more  intellec- 
tual enjoyment  than  in  the  river  Saint  Mary. 

But  I  must  devote  a  paragraph  to  the  white-fish  of  Lake 
Superior.  They  are  of  the  shad  genus,  and  with  regard  to 
flavor  are  second  only  to  their  salt  water  brethren.  They 
are  taken  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  with  gill-nets  and  the 
seine  in  the  deep  waters  of  the  lake  ;  at  this  point,  however, 
the  Indians  catch  them  with  a  scoop-net,  and  in  the  following 
manner.  Two  Indians  jump  into  a  canoe  above  the  rapids, 
and  while  one  navigates  it  among  the  rocks  and  through  the 
foaming  waters,  the  other  stands  on  the  look-out,  and  with 
the  speed  of  lightning  picks  out  the  innocent  creatures  while 
working  their  way  up  the  stream  unconscious  of  all  danger. 
This  is  a  mode  of  fishing  which  requires  great  courage, 
immense  strength,  and  a  steady  nerve.  A  very  slight  mis- 
take on  the  part  of  the  steersman,  or  a  false  movement  of  the 
net-man,  will  cause  the  canoe  to  be  swamped,  when  the 
inmates  have  to  struggle  with  the  foam  awhile  until  they 
reach  the  still  water,  when  they  strike  for  the  shore,  there 
to  be  laughed  at  by  their  rude  brethren  of  the  wilderness, 
while  the  passing  stranger  will  wonder  that  any  men  should 
attempt  such  dangerous  sport.  But  accidents  of  this  kind 
seldom  happen,  and  when  they  do  the  Indians  anticipate  no 
danger,  from  the  fact  that  they  are  all  such  expert  swimmers. 
It  took  me   three  days   to   muster  sufficient  courage  to  go 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  lGl 

down  these  rapids  in  a  canoe  with  an  Indian,  and  though  I 
performed  the  feat  without  being  harmed,  I  was  so  prodi- 
giously frightened  that  I  did  not  capture  a  single  fish,  though 
I  must  have  seen,  within  my  reach,  upwards  of  a  thousand. 
The  white-fish,  ciscovet,  and  lake  trout  have  already  become 
an  article  of  export  from  this  region,  and  I  believe  the  time 
is  not  far  distant,  when  the  fisheries  of  Lake  Superior  will 
be  considered  as  among  the  most  lucrative  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mackinaw,  August,  1846. 

I  now  write  from  Mackinaw,  the  beautiful,  which 
studs  the  waters  of  the  north,  as  does  the  northern  star  its 
own  cerulean  home.  But  what  can  I  say  about  this  island 
that  will  be  new,  since  "every  body"  now  pays  it  a  brief 
visit  while  journeying  in  the  West  ?  It  is  indeed  one  of  the 
most  unique  and  delightful  places  in  the  world.  Its  shores 
are  laved  by  the  waters  of  Superior,  Michigan,  and  Huron, 
and  rising  abruptly  as  its  does  to  a  conspicuous  height,  it 
seems  as  if  planted  there  by  nature  as  a  fortress,  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  protecting  the  lakes  from  which  it  sprung. 
I  first  approached  it  from  the  north,  on  a  mild  and  hazy  after- 
noon,  and  as  it  loomed  before  me,  enveloped  in  a  purple  at- 
mosphere, I  looked  upon  it  in  perfect  silence,  fearing  that 
even  the  beating  of  my  heart  would  dispel  what  I  thought  to 
be  a  mere  illusion.  As  our  vessel  approached,  however,  it 
gradually  changed  into  a  dreamy  reality,  and  I  could  distin- 
guish its  prominent  characteristics.  First,  was  a  perpen- 
dicular bluff,  crowned  with  a  diadem  of  foliage,  at  the  foot 
of  which  was  an  extensive  beach,  occupied  by  an  Indian  en- 
campment, where  the  rude  barbarians  were  sunning  them- 
selves like  turtles,  playing  fantastic  games,  repairing  their 
canoes,  making  mats,  or  cooking  their  evening  meal,  as  fancy 
or  necessity  impelled.  One  sudden  turn,  and  our  vessel  was 
gliding  gently  into  a  crescent  bay,  which  was  skirted  with  a 
cluster  of  trading    houses   and   ancient  looking  dwellings, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  163 

above  which,  on  a  bluff,  was  a  snow-white  fortress,  with  sol- 
diers marching  to  and  fro  upon  the  battlements. 

The  circumference  of  this  island  is  about  nine  miles,  and 
its  shores  are  bold  and  rocky.     The  scenery  is  romantic  in 
the  extreme,  and  it  has  four  natural  curiosities,  either  one  of 
which    would    give    a    reputation    to    any   ordinary  island. 
Arched  Rock  faces  the  north,  and  rises  from  the  water  to  the 
height  of  nearly  two  hundred  feet,  presenting  from  your  ca- 
noe a  superb   piece  of  wave-formed  architecture  ;  and  ap- 
pearing, as  you  look  through   it  from  the  summit,  like  the 
gateway  to  a  new  world.     Robinson's  Folly  is  also  on  the 
north  shore,  and  is  a  picturesque  bluff,  which  obtained  its 
name  after  the  following  manner.     Many  years  ago  an  Eng- 
lishman, named  Robinson,  spent  a  summer  on  the  island,  and 
while  here,  erected  for  his  own  especial  benefit,  a  summer- 
house  on  the  summit  of  the  bluff  in  question.  He  was  laughed 
at  for   his  pains,  and  was  warned   by  the   cautious  traders 
and  Indians  not  to  spend  too  much  of  his  time  on  the  cliff, 
and  especially  not  to  visit  it  when   the  wind  was  blowing. 
He  scorned  the  advice  which  was  given  him  in  kindness, 
and  to  show  his  independence,  he  frequently  spent  the  night 
in  his  eyrie.     On  one  occasion,  however,  in   the  darkness 
of  midnight,  a  thunder-storm  passed  over  the  island,  and  at 
sunrise  on  the  following  morning,  the  "  cabin  of  the  cliff"  and 
its  unfortunate  inmate  were  buried  In  the  deep.      Hence  the 
name  of  Robinson's  Folly.     Another  interesting  spot  on  this 
island  is  called  the  Cave  of  Skulls.     It  lies  on  the  western 
shore,  and  is  mainly  distinguished  for  its   historical  associa- 
tions.    More  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  according  to  one  tra- 
dition, a  party  of  Sioux  Indians,  while  pursued  by  the  Otto- 
was,  secreted  themselves  in  this  cave  ;  and  when  they  were 
discovered,  which  happened  soon  to  be  the  case,  the  Ottowas 
built  a  fire  before  the  entrance  to  the  cave,  which  they  kept 
up  for  several  days,  and  when  they  finally  entered  the  gloomy 


164  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

chamber,  their  enemies  were  all  dead.  The  truth  of  this 
story  is  corroborated  by  an  incident  recorded  by  Henry. 
After  the  massacre  of  Michilimackinack,  this  traveller,  whose 
life  had  been  threatened,  was  secreted  in  this  cave  by  a 
friendly  Indian.  He  was  shown  into  it  in  the  evening, 
scrambled  over  what  he  thought  a  very  singular  floor,  slept 
soundly  during  the  night,  and  on  awaking  in  the  morning, 
found  himself  reclining  on  a  bed  of  human  bones.  Another 
Mackinaw  curiosity  is  called  the  Needle,  and  is  a  light- 
house-looking rock,  which  overlooks  the  entire  island,  and 
throws  its  shadow  upon  the  ruins  of  Fort  Holmes,  which  are 
now  almost  level  with  the  ground,  and  overgrown  with 
weeds. 

During  my  stay  at  Mackinaw  the  weather  continued  ex- 
tremely pleasant,  and  as  I  fancied  myself  midway  between 
the  wilderness  and  the  crowded  city, — escaped  from  the 
dangers  of  one,  and  not  yet  entered  upon  the  troubles  of  the 
latter, — I  threw  away  all  care,  and  wandered  hither  and 
thither,  the  victim  of  an  idle  will.  At  one  time  I  took  my 
sketch-book  for  the  purpose  of  portraying  some  interesting 
point  upon  the  island,  and  if  a  party  of  ladies  happened  to 
discover  me  in  my  shady  haunt,  I  answered  their  smiles  with 
a  remark,  and  the  interview  generally  terminated  in  my  pre- 
senting each  one  of  them  with  a  sketch,  when  they  would" 
pass  on,  and  I  would  dive  deeper  into  the  green  woodland. 
At  another  time  I  sought  the  brow  of  some  overhanging  cliff, 
and  gazed  into  the  translucent  waters,  now  letting  my  fancy 
revel  among  the  snow-white  caverns  far  below,  and  now  watch- 
ing the  cautious  movements  of  a  solitary  lake-trout,  as  he  left 
the  deeper  waters  for  an  exploring  expedition  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  shore.  But  I  never  witnessed  such  a  sight  without 
being  affected,  somewhat  like  the  war-horse  when  listening 
to  the  trumpet's  bray,  and  in  an  hour  afterwards,  I  was  usu- 
ally in  a  boat,  about  a  mile  from  shore,  trying  my  luck  with 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1G5 


an  artificial  minnow  and  fifty  yards  of  line.  Now,  I  strolled 
along  the  beach  where  the  Indians  were  encamped,  and  after 
gathering  a  lot  of  romantic  legends  from  the  old  men,  or  after 
spending  an  hour  talking  with  some  of  the  virgin  squaws, 
while  making  their  beautiful  matting,  I  would  coax  a  lot 
of  Indian  boys  to  accompany  me,  when  we  enjoyed  a 
swim,  mostly  for  our  mutual  recreation,  and  partly  for  my 
own  instruction  in  the  manly  art,  which  with  the  red  man 
is  a  part  of  his  nature.  Sometimes  I  strolled  into  the  Fort  to 
converse  with  the  commanding  officers,  or  wasted  a  little 
powder  in  firing  at  a  target  with  the  soldiers. 

Mackinaw,  during  the  season  of  navigation,  is  one  of  the 
busiest  little  places  in  the  world.     All  the  Detroit  and  Chi- 
cago steamers  stop  here  in  passing   to  and   fro,  and   usually 
tarry  a  sufficient  length  of  time  to  let  their  passengers  take 
a  hasty  ride  over  the  island,  and  to  replenish  their  larders 
with   trout   and   white-fish,   which  are  commonly  taken  on 
board  in  cart-loads.     From   time   immemorial   the   Indians 
have  been  annually  summoned  to  this  island,  for  the  purpose 
of  receiving  their  regular  instalments  from  the  Government, 
in  the  shape  of  merchandise  and  money,  and  on  these  occa- 
sions it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  an  assembly  of  three  thousand 
fantastically  dressed   savages.     But  in  the  winter  this  place 
is    entirely  ice-bound,  and  of  course    completely  isolated. 
Then  it  is  that  the  inhabitants  are  favored  with   a  monthly 
mail,  which  is  brought  from  Saginaw  by  Indians  or   Half- 
Breeds,  on  sledges  drawn  by  dogs  ;  and  fishing,  skating,  and 
story-telling  are  about  the  only  things  which  tend  to  relieve 
the  monotony  of  a  winter  spent  upon  the  island. 

Like  too  many  of  the  beautiful  places  on  our  western 
frontier,  Mackinaw  is  now  in  a  transition  state.  Heretofore 
it  has  been  the  Indian's  congregating  place,  but  its  aboriginal 
glory  is  rapidly  departing,  and  it  will  soon  be  the  fashionable 
resort  of  summer  travellers.  Its  peculiar  location,  picturesque 

8* 


166  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

scenery,  and  the  tonic  character  of  its  climate,  are  destined 
to  make  it  one  of  the  most  attractive  watering  places  in  the 
country.  But  enough.  One  of  the  Chicago  steamers  is  in 
sight,  and  I  must  prepare  my  luggage,  previous  to  taking 
passage  for  the  home  of  my  childhood,  in  Southern  Michigan, 
where  I  shall  remain  a  few  days,  and  then  hasten  to  my  city 
home  on  the  Atlantic. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII.* 

On  the  River  Raisin,  August,  1846. 

Michisawgyegan    is   the  Indian  name  for  the   state  of 
Michigan,  and  the  meaning  of  it  is  the  Lake  Country.     It  is 
my  native  state,  and  as  I  have  recently  visited  it  after  an 
absence  of  more  than  a  dozen  years,  and  as  it  is  not  yet  en- 
tirely redeemed  from  its  original  state  of  nature,  it  is  meet,  I 
ween,   that  I  should,  while  within  its  borders,  wind  up  my 
echoes  of  the  wilderness.    This  is  the  country  where  I  spent 
the    morning  of  my  days  ; — the  theatre    where  my  future 
character  in  the  drama  of  life  was  formed  and  first  acted  out. 
Remote  from  the  glitter  and  noise  of  the  great  human  world, 
I  used  to  wander  alone  through  its  dark  forests,  and  bathe  in 
its  pure  streams,  without  a  care  or  thought  to  mar  the  peace- 
fulness  of  life.     A  thousand  words,  now  full    of  meaning, 
and  familiar  to  my  ear,  were  then  but  unmeaning  sounds. 
Those  were  the  days  when  I  sported  on  the  lap  of  nature, 
feeling  it  to  be  a  luxury  to  breathe.     Will  they  ever  return  ? 
Ask  that  evening  breeze  whether  it  will  ever  again  cool  the 
fevered  brow  of  that  dying  man  ?     But  very  dear  to  me  are 
my  recollections  of  Michigan,  and  I  would  not   part  with 
them  for  the  treasures  of  the  world. 

The  character  of  its  scenery  and  people  is  as  original  as 

*  Portions  of  this  chapter  have  already  appeared  in  print,  but  as  they 
have  been  re-written,  and  moulded,  with  other  matter,  into  a  complete 
whole,  I  trust  that  I  shall  be  excused  for  the  liberty  I  have  taken,  in  pub- 
lishing them  again.  C.  "• 


168  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

■  * ' — — • 

its  situation.  Almost  surrounded  by  water,  it  possesses  all 
the  advantages  of  an  island,  while  at  the  same  time  it  is  but 
a  small  portion  of  a  vast  whole.  Its  streams  are  numerous 
and  clear,  but  generally  sluggish.  A  portion  of  the  extreme 
north  is  uninhabited  by  human  beings,  owing  to  its  barren- 
ness. Huge  granite  mountains  here  loom  upward  in  eternal 
solitude  ;  sometimes  presenting  the  appearance  of  having 
been  severed  asunder,  and  scattered  around  by  some  mighty 
convulsion  of  nature.  On  the  borders  of  the  cold  and  deso- 
late lakes  thus  formed,  the  crane  and  bittern  rear  their 
young.  Occasionally,  on  the  brow  of  some  jutting  crag, 
may  be  discovered  the  meager  hut  of  some  poor  Indian. 
Perhaps  a  barbarous  anchorite,  to  whom  the  voice  of  his  fel- 
low man  is  a  grating  sound,  and  to  whom  existence  is  but  a 
mist,  a  dream  ;  or  it  may  be  some  disgraced  warrior,  who  has 
been  banished  from  friends  and  home,  to  dwell  in  this  dreary 
solitude,  with  no  companions  but  a  half-starved  dog,  rugged 
pines,  and  frowning  rocks.  But  this  section  is  said  to  con- 
tain the  richest  copper  mine  in  the  known  world. 

The  surface  of  the  western  half  is  destitute  of  rocks, 
and  undulating  ;  and  it  is  here  that  the  loveliest  of  lakes 
and  streams  and  prairies  are  to  be  found.  Lake  Michigan, 
the  second  in  the  world,  is  its  western  boundary.  The  east- 
ern portion  is  entirely  original  in  its  appearance,  possessing 
many  beauties  peculiarly  its  own.  It  is  so  level  and  low  that 
a  stranger  approaching  it  from  Lake  Erie  is  often  surprised 
to  find  himself  in  port,  while  in  the  act  of  looking  out  for 
land.  This  shore  is  watered  by  the  Huron,  St.  Clair,  and 
Erie. 

No  one,  who  has  never  witnessed  them,  can  form  any 
idea  of  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  thousand  lakes  which 
gem  the  western  part  of  Michigan.  They  are  the  brightest 
and  purest  mirrors  the  virgin  sky  has  ever  used  to  adorn  her- 
self. Their  banks  are  frequently  dotted  by  human  dwellings, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1G0 

the  humble  though  comfortable  abodes  of  a  sturdy  yeomanry. 
That  one  which  takes  its  name  from  an  Indian  called  Bau- 
becse,  and  which  is  the  outlet  of  the  St.  Joseph  river,  I  will 
match  against  any  other  of  its  size  in  the  world. 

Notwithstanding  what  has  been  so  often  said  by  the  arti- 
ficial inhabitants  of  cities,  concerning  the  hardships  and  ig- 
norance of  the  backwoodsman's  life,  there  is  many  a  stout 
heart,  exalted  mind,  and  noble  soul,  whose  dwelling-place 
has  been  for  years  on  the  borders  of  these  very  lakes.  I 
know  this  to  be  true,  for  I  have  slept  beneath  their  roofs,  and 
often  partaken  of  their  johnny-cake  and  fat  quails.  No, — 
no.  I  love  these  men  as  brothers,  and  shall  always  frown 
upon  that  cit  or  dandy  who  sets  down  aught  against  them, — 
in  malice  or  in  ignorance. 

Some  of  these  little  lakes  smile  in  perpetual  solitude. 
One  of  them  is  before  me  now.  It  is  summer.  The  sun  is 
above  its  centre.  Deep  and  dark  and  still  are  the  shadows 
of  the  surrounding  trees  and  bushes.  On  the  broad  leaf  of 
a  water-lily  a  green  snake  is  curled  up,  with  his  head  ele- 
vated, and  his  tongue  gleaming  in  the  sunlight.  He  is  the 
enemy  of  all  flying  insects  and  little  birds,  and  if  you  watch 
him  a  little  longer  you  will  see  one  of  them  decoyed  to  death 
by  the  power  of  his  charm.  Hush !  there  is  a  stir  among 
the  dry  leaves.  It  is  but  a  lonely  doe  coming  to  quench  her 
thirst.  Is  she  not  the  Queen  of  Beauty  ?  There  she  stands, 
knee-deep  in  the  water,  looking  downwards,  admiring  the 
brightness  of  her  eyes  and  the  gracefulness  of  her  neck. 
How  Leigh  Hunt  would  enjoy  a  ramble  here  !  His  favorite 
flowers, — the  rose,  the  violet,  the  lily,  and  the  sweet-brier, 
would  each  sim*  him  a  song  more  sweet  and  delicate  than 
their  first.  What  bright  hue  is  that  in  the  middle  of  the 
lake  ?     It  is  but  the  reflection  of 


" a  vapor  in  the  sky, 

Thin,  white,  and  very  high.'' 


170  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


A  great  proportion  of  Michigan  is  covered  with  white- 
oak  openings.  Standing  on  a  gentle  hill,  the  eye  wanders 
away  for  miles  over  an  undulating  surface,  obstructed  only 
by  the  trunks  of  lofty  trees, — above  you  a  green  canopy,  and 
beneath,  a  carpet  of  velvet  grass,  sprinkled  with  flowers  of 
every  hue  and  form. 

The  prairies  are  another  interesting  feature  of  Michigan 
scenery.  They  meet  the  traveller  at  every  point,  and  of 
many  sizes,  seeming  often  like  so  many  lakes,  being  often 
studded  with  wooded  islands,  and  surrounded  by  shores  of 
forests.  Their  soil  is  a  deep  black  sand.  Grass  is  their 
natural  production,  although  corn,  oats,  and  potatoes  flourish 
upon  them.  Never  can  I  forget  the  first  time  I  entered 
White  Pigeon  Prairie.  Sleeping  beneath  the  shadows  of 
sunset,  as  it  was,  the  effect  upon  me  was  like  that  which  is 
felt  on  first  beholding  the  ocean, — overpowering  awe.  All 
that  the  poet  has  said  about  these  gardens  of  the  desert,  is  true. 

Burr  Oak  Plains.  The  only  difference  between  these 
and  the  oak  openings,  is  the  character  of  the  trees  and  the 
evenness  of  their  surface.  The  soil  is  a  mixture  of  sand 
and  black  loam.  They  have  the  appearance  of  cultivated 
orchards,  or  English  parks  ;  and,  on  places  where  the  foot 
of  the  white  man  has  never  trod,  a  carriage  and  four  could 
easily  pass  through.     They  produce  both  wheat  and  corn. 

The  wet  prairies  have  the  appearance  of  submerged 
land.  In  them  the  grass  is  often  six  or  seven  feet  high. 
They  are  the  resort  of  water-fowl,  muskrats,  and  otter. 

But  the  best  and  most  fertile  soil  in  Michigan  is  that  desig- 
nated by  the  title  of  timbered  land.  It  costs  more  to  prepare 
it  for  the  plough,  but  when  once  the  soil  is  sown  it  yields  a 
thousand-fold.  And  with  regard  to  their  beauty  and  magnifi- 
cence, the  innumerable  forests  of  this  state  are  not  surpassed 
by  any  in  the  world,  whether  we  consider  the  variety  or 
grandeur  of  their  productions. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  171 


A  friend  of  mine,  now  residing  in  western  Michigan,  and 
who  once  spent  several  years  in  Europe,  thus  writes  respect- 
ing this  region  : 

"  O,  such  trees  as  we  have  here !  Magnificent,  tall, 
large-leafed,  umbrageous.  Vallombrosa,  the  far-famed  Val- 
lombrosa  of  Tuscany,  is  nothing  to  the  thousand  Vallombrosas 
here  !  A  fig  for  your  Italian  scenery  !  This  is  the  country 
where  nature  reigns  in  her  virgin  beauty  ;  where  trees  grow, 
where  corn  grows  ;  where  men  grow  better  than  they  do 
any  where  else  in  the  world.  This  is  the  land  to  study  na- 
ture in  all  her  luxuriant  charms,  under  glorious  green 
branches,  among  singing  birds  and  laughing  streams ;  this 
is  the  land  to  hear  the  cooing  of  the  turtle-dove,  in  far,  deep, 
cool,  sylvan  bowers  ;  to  feel  your  soul  expand  under  the 
mighty  influences  of  nature  in  her  primitive  beauty  and 
strength." 

The  principal  inland  rivers  of  Michigan  are,  the  Grand 
River,  the  Kalamazoo,  the  St.  Joseph,  the  Saginaw,  and  the 
Raisin.  The  first  three  empty  into  Lake  Michigan,  and  are 
about  seventy  miles  apart.  Their  average  length  is  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  they  are  about  thirty  or 
forty  rods  in  width.  At  present,  they  are  navigable  about 
half  their  length  for  small  steamboats  and  bateaux.  Their 
bed  is  of  limestone,  covered  with  pebbles.  I  was  a  passen- 
ger on  board  the  Matilda  Barney,  on  her  first  trip, — the  first 
steamer  that  ever  ascended  the  St.  Joseph,  which  I  consider 
the  most  perfectly  beautiful  stream  that  I  ever  have  seen.  I 
remember  well  the  many  flocks  of  wild  turkies  and  herds  of 
deer,  that  the  "  iron  horse"  frightened  in  his  winding  career. 
The  Indian  canoe  is  now  giving  way  to  the  more  costly  but 
less  beautiful  row-boat,  and  those  rivers  are  becoming  deeper 
and  deeper  every  day.  Instead  of  the  howl  of  the  wolf,  the 
songs  of  husbandmen  now  echo  through  their  vales,  where 
may  be  found  many  comfortable  dwellings. 


172  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


The  Saginaw  runs  toward  the  north  and  empties  into  Lake 
Huron, — that  same  Huron  which  has  been  celebrated  in 
song  by  the  young  poet,  Louis  L.  Noble.  This  river  is 
navigable  for  sixty  miles.  The  river  Raisin  is  a  winding 
stream,  emptying  into  Lake  Erie,  called  so  from  the  quantity 
of  grapes  that  cluster  on  its  banks.  Its  Indian  name  is 
Numma-sepee,  signifying  River  of  Sturgeons.  Sweet  river  ! 
whose  murmurs  have  so  often  been  my  lullaby,  mayest  thou 
continue  in  thy  beauty  for  ever.  Are  there  not  streams  like 
thee  flowing  through  the  paradise  of  God  ? 

Notwithstanding  the  comparative  newness  of  Michigan, 
its  general  aspect  is  ancient.  The  ruin  of  many  an  old  fort 
may  be  discovered  on  its  borders,  reminding  the  beholder  of 
wrong  and  outrage,  blood  and  strife.  This  was  once  the 
home  of  noble  but  oppressed  nations.  Here  lived  and  loved 
the  Algonquin  and  Shawnese  Indians ;  the  names  of  whose 
warrior  chiefs, — Pontiac  the  proud,  and  Tecumseh  the  brave, 
— will  long  be  treasured  in  history.  I  have  stood  upon  their 
graves,  which  are  marked  only  by  a  blighted  tree  and  an 
unhewn  stone,  and  have  sighed  deeply  as  I  remembered  their 
deeds.  But  they  have  gone, — gone  like  the  lightning  of  a 
summer  day  ! 

It  is  a  traditionary  land.  For  we  are  told  that  the  Indian 
hunters  of  old  saw  fairies  and  genii  floating  over  its  lakes 
and  streams,  and  dancing  through  its  lonely  forests.  In  these 
did  they  believe,  and  to  please  them  was  thair  religion. 

The  historian*  of  this  state  thus  writes,  in  alluding  to  the 
olden  times  :  "  The  streams  rolled  their  liquid  silver  to  the 
lake,  broken  only  by  the  fish  that  flashed  in  their  current,  or 
the  swan  that  floated  upon  their  surface.  Vegetation  flour- 
ished alone.  Roses  bloomed  and  died,  only  to  be  trampled 
by  the  deer  or  savage  ;  and  strawberries  studded  the  ground 

*  James  H.  Lanman,  Esq.,  uncle  to  the  Author. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  173 

like  rubies,  where  the  green  and  sunny  hillsides  reposed 
amid  the  silence,  like  sleeping  infants  in  the  lap  of  the  forest. 
The  rattlesnake  glided  undisturbed  through  its  prairies;  and 
the  fog  which  hung  in  clouds  over  its  stagnant  marshes 
spread  no  pcstilcn  The  panther,  the  fox,  the  deer,  the 

wolf,  and  bear,  roamed  fearless  through  the  more  remote 
parts  of  the  domain,  for  there  were  none  to  dispute  with 
them  their  inheritance.  But  clouds  thickened.  In  the  dark- 
ness of  midnight,  and  silence  of  the  wilderness,  the  tom- 
ahawk and  scalping  knife  were  forged  for  their  work  of 
death.  Speeches  were  made  by  the  savages  under  the 
voiceless  stars,  which  were  heard  by  none  save  God  and 
their  allies:  and  the  war-son^  echoed  from  the  banks  of 
lakes  where  had  never  been  heard  the  footsteps  of  civilized 
man." 

Then  followed  the  horrors  of  war ;  then  and  there  were 
enacted  the  triumphs  of  revenge.  But  those  sounds  have 
died  away  ;  traced  only  on  the  page  of  history,  those  deeds. 
The  voice  of  rural  labor,  the  clink  of  the  hammer,  and  the 
sound  of  Sabbath-bells  now  echo  in  those  forests  and  vales. 
The  plough  is  making  deep  furrows  in  its  soil,  and  the  sound 
of  the  anvil  is  in  every  part.  A  well-endowed  University, 
and  seminaries  of  learning  are  there.  Railroads  and  canals, 
like  veins  of  health,  are  gliding  to  its  noble  heart.  The  red 
man,  in  his  original  grandeur  and  state  of  nature,  has  passed 
away  from  its  more  fertile  borders  ;  and  his  bitterest  enemy, 
the  pale  face,  is  master  of  his  possessions. 

The  French  were  the  first  who  settled  in  Michigan,  and 
at  uly  a  date  as  1020,  and  for   many  years,  they  and 

the  Indians,  were  the  sole  inhabitants.  Here  it  was  that  the 
far  famed  Jesuit  missionaries  first  pitched  their  tents  in 
(what  is  now)  the  United  States.  Now,  people  out  of  every 
civilized  nation  dwell  within  its  borders.  Detroit,  on  the 
superb  river  of  that  name,  and   Frenchtown,  on   the   river 


174  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


Raisin,  were  both  founded  by  the  French.  The  former  of 
these  is  a  city,  a  flourishing  city,  of  fifteen  thousand  inhabit- 
ants, where  are  to  be  found  all  the  elegances  and  luxury  of 
the  most  polite  society.  Its  principal  street  would  be  an 
ornament  in  an)'  city ;  its  elevation  is  some  fifty  feet  above 
the  water,  and  from  its  docks,  the  eye  wanders  over  a  scene 
not  unlike  that  visible  from  the  North  River  side  of  the 
Empire  city.  Like  most  cities,  it  appears  to  the  best  advan- 
tage in  winter.  Then  it  is  that  you  may  often  witness  the 
beautiful  Detroit  River  frozen  like  marble,  and  on  its  surface 
hundreds  of  sleighs  and  skaters  gliding  in  every  direction ; 
while  a  chorus  of  bells  comes  faintly  and  sweetly  to  your 
ear.  Monroe,  is  the  modern  name  for  Frenchtown.  It  is 
situated  about  two  miles  from  Lake  Erie,  and  is  also  a 
flourishing  town,  containing  some  four  thousand  inhabitants, 
a  goodly  portion  of  whom  are  the  descendants  of  the  early 
settlers.  Detroit  and  Monroe,  are  two  of  the  best  wheat 
markets  in  the  western  country.  Ann-Arbor  on  the  Huron 
is  the  New  Haven  of  Michigan,  and  possesses  many  attrac- 
tions in  the  way  of  intelligent  people,  picturesque  scenery, 
and  handsome  buildings.  Niles,  on  the  St.  Joseph,  is  a  most 
difficult  place  to  pass  through,  for  the  traveller  always  feels 
an  irresistible  impulse  to  remain  there  for  ever, — it  is  so 
charmingly  situated,  on  such  a  charming  stream,  and  in- 
habited by  such  charming  people.  But  I  might  sing  this 
song  under  the  head  of  Kalamazoo,  Ypsilanti,  Tecumseh, 
Adrian,  Pontiac,  Grand  Rapids,  Jackson,  Battle  Creek,  and 
twenty  other  thriving  villages,  which  are  all  surrounded 
by  a  fine  agricultural  country.  I  cannot  now  dwell  upon 
such  themes.  Numma-sepee  is  ringing  in  my  ear,  and  my 
thoughts  are  with  my  body,  on  the  river,  and  in  the  village, 
where  I  was  born.  Here,  I  am,  after  an  absence  of  many 
years,  a  visitor,  and  to  half  the  people  ja  stranger,  on  the 
very  soil  where  I  spent  my  wild  and  happy  boyhood.     1  will 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  175 

not  touch  upon  the  improvements  that  meet  me  at  every  turn, 
nor  upon  the  troops  of  friends  that  surround  me  ;  my  heart 
is  with  the  village  of  other  days,  not  with  the  business  citv 
of  the  present  time  ;  and  as  to  my  friends,  I  thank  them  for 
their  kindness,  but  they  are  not  of  my  kindred  ;  they  are 
changed,  and  I  can  only  look  upon  them  as  strangers. 
Reader,  as  you  love  to  remember  the  sunny  days  of  your  own 
life,  I  invite  you  to  listen  to  my  words,  as  I  attempt  to  sum- 
mon from  the  past  an  array  of  my  most  dearly  cherished 
recollections. 

Judging  from  the  many  accounts  I  have  heard,  the  spot 
now  occupied  by  Monroe  must  have  been,  before  the  last 
war,  one  of  the  most  delightful  nooks  in  the  wide  world. 
Its  original  name,  as  before  stated,  was  Frenchtown,  and  its 
only  inhabitants  were  French,  who  had  emigrated  thither 
from  France  by  the  way  of  Canada.  The  families  did  not 
number  more  than  about  fifty,  and  the  names  of  the  most 
conspicuous  were  Navarre,  Duval,  Beaubien,  Bourdeaux, 
Couture,  Nadeau,  Bannac,  Cicot,  Campau,  Jobien,  Godfroy, 
Lasselle,  Corsenau,  Labadee,  Durocher,  Robert,  Lacroix, 
Dausette,  Loranger,  Sancomb,  and  Fourniet.  They  inhab- 
ited what  might  be  called  an  oasis  in  the  wilderness.  Their 
farms  all  lay  directly  upon  either  side  of  the  river,  and 
though  principally  devoted  to  agricultural  pursuits,  they 
were  content  with  but  a  few  acres  of  cleared  land,  and  be- 
yond these,  on  either  hand,  stood  the  mighty  forests  in  their 
original  solitude  and  luxuriance.  Along  their  doors  glided 
the  ever-murmuring  Raisin,  whose  fountain-head  was  then 
among  the  things  unknown,  and  its  waters  mingled  with 
those  of  Erie,  without  being  disturbed  by  the  keel  of  any 
steamboat  or  white-winged  vessel.  Comfort  and  beauty 
characterized  their  dwellings,  and  around  them  grew  in 
great  abundance  domestic  trees,  that  yielded  the  most  deli- 
cious fruits.     In  their  midst  stood  a  little  chapel,  overgrown 


176  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

with  ivy  and  surmounted  by  a  cross,  where  the  Jesuit  mis- 
sionaries or  Catholic  priests  performed  their  religious  duties. 
The  soft-toned  bell  that  summoned  them  to  worship,  was  not 
without  its  echoes,  but  they  dwelt  far  away  upon  the  sleep- 
ing lake  or  in  the  bosom  of  the  surrounding  wilderness. 
Here  the  tumult  of  the  great  human  world  was  never  heard, 
and  money  and  fame  were  not  the  chief  desire  of  the  se- 
cluded husbandman,  for  he  was  at  ease  in  his  possessions. 
Indians,  the  smoke  of  whose  wigwams  ascended  to  heaven 
on  every  side,  were  the  only  people  with  whom  the  early 
settlers  had  intercourse ;  from  them  they  obtained  valuable 
furs,  by  barter,  which  they  sent  to  Montreal,  receiving  in 
exchange  the  necessaries  and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life. 
They  maintained  the  habits  which  were  brought  from  the 
provinces  whence  they  emigrated.  The  gentleman  pre- 
served the  garb  of  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.,  while  the  peasant 
wore  a  long  surtout,  sash,  red  cap,  and  deer-skin  moccasons. 
Their  knowledge  of  agriculture  was  very  limited,  and  the 
policy  of  the  fur  trade  was  calculated  to  keep  down  the 
spirit  of  improvement  in  that  respect.  Of  corn  and  wheat 
they  were  anxious  only  to  raise  enough  to  last  them  during 
the  year.  A  surplus  of  any  thing  but  furs  they  did  not 
desire,  and  never  possessed.  Their  grain  was  ground  in 
windmills,  whose  picturesque  features  added  to  the  poetry 
of  their  scenery.  Their  amusements  were  confined  to  the 
sound  of  the  violin,  at  their  unaffected  assemblies. 

The  forest  afforded  them  an  abundance  of  game,  which 
constantly  led  them  to  the  hunt,  and  their  beautiful  stream 
abounded  in  fish,  which  they  captured  with  the  net,  the  hook, 
and  the  spear.  A  dreamy  summer  atmosphere  seems  to  rest 
upon  this  region,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  the  olden  times. 
There  was  poetry  in  every  thing  which  met  the  eye  :  in  the 
priest,  with  cowl  and  satin  vestments,  kneeling  before  a  wood- 
en cross,  on  his  way  to  the  place  of  prayer ;  in  the  peasant, 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  177 

as  he  performed  his  rural  labors,  attended  by  his  wife  and 
playful  children ;  in  the  rude  Indians,  with  fantastic  costumes, 
who  were  wont  to  play  their  uncouth  games  on  the  green- 
sward, or  perform  their  dexterous  feats  in  the  bark  canoe  ; 
in  the  sky,  which  smiled  perpetually  upon  the  virgin  wilder- 
ness ;  and  in  that  wilderness,  whose  peculiar  features  verily 
blossomed  as  the  unplucked  rose.  And  there  was  poetry  in 
all  that  fell  upon  the  ear  :  in  the  lowing  of  the  cattle  and 
the  tinkling  of  their  bells  ;  in  the  gentle  flowing  waters,  and 
the  sound  of  the  summer  wind,  as  it  sported  with  the  forest 
trees,  and.  wandered  away,  laden  with  the  perfume  of  name- 
less flowers  ;  in  the  singing  of  unnumbered  birds,  which 
ascended  to  the  skies  in  a  perpetual  anthem  ;  and  in  the 
loud  clear  laugh  of  French  and  Indian  children,  as  they 
mingled  together  in  their  simple  games.  But  those  patri- 
archal days  are  for  ever  departed  !  In  another  part  of  the 
country  Tecumseh  and  Pontiac  were  beginning  to  figure  in 
successive  battles  against  the  United  States,  and  their  hostile 
spirit  soon  manifested  itself  upon  our  frontier.  The  Indians 
upon  this  river  became  the  enemies  of  the  settlers,  which 
turned  out  to  be  the  prelude  to  a  storm  of  war  that  scattered 
death  and  desolation  along  its  path.  But  many  years  have 
fled  since  then,  and  the  blessings  of  peace  and  prosperity  are 
resting  upon  our  country. 

The  poor  Indians  have  almost  withered  from  the  land, 
and  those  French  inhabitants,  like  all  things  earthly,  are  on 
their  way  to  the  land  of  forgetfulness.  Another  race  of  men 
succeeded  here,  and  can  be  numbered  by  thousands;  and 
where  once  extended  the  dominion  of  the  wilderness,  a  busi- 
ness city  now  looks  down  upon  the  river,  which  river  has 
become  an  adopted  servant  of  commerce. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  here  quoting  the  following  passage 
from  Charlevoix,  descriptive  of  the  scenery  as  it  existed 
when  he  passed  through  this  region  in  seventeen  hundred 
and  twenty-one  : 


178  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


"  The  first  of  June,  being  the  day  of  Pentecost,  after  hav- 
ing sailed  up  a  beautiful  river  (the  Raisin)  for  the  space  of 
an  hour,  which  has  its  rise,  as  they  say,  at  a  great  distance, 
and  runs  betwixt  two  fine  meadows,  we  passed  over  a  carry- 
ing place  of  about  sixty  paces  in  breadth,  in  order  to  avoid 
turning  round  a  point  which  is  called  Long  Point.  It  is  a 
very  sandy  spot  of  ground,  and  naturally  bears  a  great  quan- 
tity of  vines.  The  following  days  I  saw  nothing  remarkable, 
but  coasted  along  a  charming  country,  hid  at  times  by  disa- 
greeable prospects,  which,  however,  are  of  no  great  extent. 
Wherever  I  went  ashore,  I  was  enchanted  by  the  beauty 
and  variety  of  a  landscape,  terminated  by  the  noblest  forests 
in  the  whole  world.  Add  to  this,  that  every  part  of  it  swarms 
with  waterfowl.  I  cannot  say  whether  the  woods  afford 
game  in  equal  profusion.  Were  we  all  to  sail,  as  I  there 
did,  with  a  serene  sky,  in  a  most  charming  climate,  and  in 
water  as  clear  as  that  of  the  purest  fountain  ;  were  we  sure 
of  finding  every  where  as  secure  and  agreeable  places  to 
pass  the  night  in  ;  where  we  might  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
hunting  at  a  small  expense,  breathe  at  our  ease  of  the  purest 
air,  and  enjoy  the  prospect  of  the  finest  of  countries  ;  we 
might  be  tempted  to  travel  to  the  end  of  our  days.  How 
many  oaks  represented  to  me  that  of  Mamre  !  How  many 
fountains  put  me  in  mind  of  that  of  Jacob  !  Each  day  a  new 
situation,  chosen  at  pleasure,  a  neat  and  commodious  house 
built  and  furnished  with  all  necessaries  in  less  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  floored  with  a  pavement  of  flowers,  continu- 
ally springing  up  on  a  carpet  of  the  most  beautiful  green  ; — 
on  all  sides  simple  and  natural  beauties,  unadulterated  and 
inimitable  by  art." 

In  this  region  I  spent  my  wild  and  wayward  boyhood. 
In  the  prime  of  summer  I  have  watched  for  pigeons  on  the 
margin  of  the  forest  springs  ;  in  the  strangely  beautiful 
autumn  and  Indian  summer  I  have  captured  the  squirrel 


STTMMEH    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  170 


.uid  partridge;  and  in  the  winter  the  turkey  and  the  deer. 
Reader  !  have  you  ever,  while  roaming  in  the  woods  horde r- 
ing  a  prairie,  startled  from  his  heathery  coueh  a  noble  buck, 
and  seen  him  dart  from  you,  "swift  as  an  arrow  from  a 
shivering  bow  !"  Was  it  not  a  sight  worthy  of  a  purer 
world  than  ours  ?  Did  you  not  hail  him  "  king  of  the  beau- 
tiful and  fleet"  ? 

There  is  one  hunting  incident  which  I  met  with  when 
about  fourteen  years  of  age,  that  I  can  never  forget.  I  had 
entered  upon  a  cow-path,  and  as  it  led  through  so  many  and 
such  beautiful  places,  I  forgot  myself  and  wandered  on  until 
the  shadows  of  evening  warned  me  of  my  situation.  Great 
oaks  and  hickories,  and  walnut  trees  were  with  me  wherever 
I  went.  They  cast  a  spell  upon  me  like  that  which  is 
wrought  by  the  old  of  other  days.  The  black  night  came 
at  last,  and  there  I  was,  alone,  and  lost  in  that  silent  wilder. 
ness.  Onward  still  did  I  continue,  and  even  in  my  great 
fear  was  at  times  startled  by  the  flapping  of  an  owlet's  wing 
or  the  howl  of  a  wolf.  The  stars  were  above,  shining  in 
their  brightness,  but  invisible  to  me,  so  closely  woven  were 
the  tops  of  the  trees.  Faintly  glimmering  in  the  distance,  I 
saw  a  firelight,  and  on  coming  near,  found  a  party  of  Indians 
encamped.  My  breast  panted  with  excessive  fear,  and  yet 
I  could  not  speak — could  hardly  breathe,  and  still  my  mind 
was  free  and  active.  I  stood  and  listened  to  the  faint  sound 
of  a  distant  waterfall.  Would  that  I  had  power  to  express 
the  emotions  that  came  like  a  flood  pouring  into  my  soul. 
Covered  by  a  blanket,  and  pillowed  by  a  mocuck  of  sugar, 
each  Indian  was  asleep  upon  his  rush-mat.  Parents,  chil- 
dren, and  friends,  promiscuously  disposed,  though  all  of  them 
with  their  feet  turned  towards  the  expiring  embers.  The 
dogs  too,  looking  ferocious  and  cunning  as  wolves,  were  all 
sound  asleep.  I  stole  softly  into  the  midst  of  the  wild  com- 
pany, and  covering  myself  with   an  odd  blanket,  strange  to 


180  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

say,  I  slumbered.  When  morning  was  come,  and  the  Indi- 
ans discovered  a  pale-faced  boy  among  them,  their  astonish- 
ment can  be  more  easily  conceived  than  described.  I  at 
length  informed  them  by  signs  that  I  was  lost,  and  that  my 
home  was  in  the  village  of  Monroe.  I  partook  with  them  of 
a  hearty  breakfast,  composed  of  venison,  hommony,  and 
water,  and  ere  the  sun  had  mounted  high,  was  on  my  way 
homeward,  with  an  Indian  for  my  guide.  As  we  parted  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  village,  I  offered  to  pay  him  for  his  trou- 
ble, but  he  declined  receiving  any  thing.  I  turned  around, 
and  the  thick  forest  shielded  him  from  my  sight.  Of  course 
my  friends  were  much  concerned  at  my  absence,  and  the 
majority  of  them  insisted  upon  my  having  been  drowned. 
For  one  whole  week  after  this  adventure,  I  was  compelled 
to  stay  at  home  ;  but  after  that,  it  was  forgotten,  and  I  was 
in  the  forests  again. 

But  my  heart-song  of  other  days  is  just  beginning,  and  I 
cannot  yet  drop  my  pen.  My  father's  residence  was  upon 
one  of  the  old  French  farms,  that  were  once  so  famous  for 
their  Arcadian  beauty.  The  hand  of  improvement  has  de- 
spoiled them  of  their  original  glory,  and  the  strange,  gaudy 
scenes  that  I  now  behold,  only  tend  to  oppress  my  spirit  with 
gloom.  The  city  dwellings  around  me  I  cannot  see,  for  my 
mind  is  upon  the  village  of  my  birth.  The  farm  alluded  to 
above,  was  about  half  a  mile  in  width,  and  extended  back  to 
the  distance  of  nearly  two  miles.  Leaving  the  river  and 
going  back,  you  first  pass  through  an  orchard  containing  four 
or  five  hundred  trees.  Here  a  row  of  splendid  pear-trees, 
and  there  a  regiment  of  old  black  apple-trees,  staggering 
under  their  weight  of  fruit.  Entering  a  little  enclosure 
behind  a  barn,  you  might  see  fifty  small  light-green  trees, 
with  an  innumerable  number  of  rosy-checked  peaches  under 
their  leaves.  And  now  we  pass  the  great  cider-press, 
where  I  was  wont  to  imbibe  the  rich  American  wine  through 


SUMMER    IN    Till-:    WILDERNESS.  181 


an  oaten  straw.  A  little  further  on,  we  come  to  a  preen 
pasture,  where  there  are  cows,  oxen,  sheep  and  hones  graz- 
ing; onward  still,  and  a  wheat-field,  yellow  as  gold,  bowino- 
before  the  breeze.  Then  our  path  lies  across  a  pleasant 
meadow,  watered  by  a  sparkling  stream  ;  and  after  a  brief 
walk  we  find  ourselves  in  the  forest,  dark  and  gloomy. 
And  such  was  the  spot  where  I  spent  the  morning  of  rny  days. 
Is  it  strange,  then,  that  a  deep  and  holy  love  for  nature  should 
be  rooted  in  my  heart  ? 

That  description  reminds  me  of  another  hunting  expedi- 
tion, of  which  I  would  merely  give  an  outline.  It  is  early 
morning,  and  the  latter  part  of  spring.  Breakfast  is  ended. 
My  cap  and  buckskin  shirt  are  on,  the  latter  gathered  round 
my  waist  by  a  scarlet  worsted  belt.  My  powder-horn  and 
shot-pouch  are  filled  with  the  nicest  kind  of  ammunition,  and 
in  my  hand  is  my  valued  little  gun,  (bought  expressly  for 
myself,)  polished  bright  as  a  sunbeam.  I  have  kissed  the 
baby,  and  am  now  on  my  winding  way.  At  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  I  borrow  a  canoe  of  some  old  Frenchman  who 
resides  there.  If  I  were  to  oiler  him  pay  he  would  not 
accept  it ;  for  the  interesting  reason  that  he  "  knows  my 
father." — All  the  day  long  have  I  been  hunting,  and  revelling 
in  a  dream-land  of  my  own.  The  sun  is  in  the  west,  and  I 
am  hungry.  I  have  paddled  around  many  a  green  and 
lovely  island,  and  explored  many  a  bayou  and  marsh,  and  out- 
lets of  creeks;  frightening  from  her  lonely  nest  many  a  wild- 
duck  and  her  brood.  My  shot-pouch  is  now  empty,  although 
the  bottom  of  my  canoe  is  covered  with  game.  There  are 
five  canvass-backs,  three  teals,  three  plovers,  two  snipes,  one 
wood-duck,  and  other  kinds  of  waterfowl.  The  canoe  is 
drawn  up  on  shore,  and  with  my  thanks  I  have  given  old 
Robert  a  couple  of  ducks.  My  game  is  now  slung  upon  my 
back,  and  I  am  homeward  bound,  proud  as  a  young  king. 
While  passing  through  the  village,  (for  I  have  to  do  so,)  I 

9 


182  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

hear  a  voice  exclaiming,  Lally  !  Lally  !  I  approach,  and 
find  my  father  and  several  other  gentlemen  seated  at  the 
post-office  door  talking  politics.  Each  one  in  turn  gives  me 
a  word  of  praise,  calling  me  '  quite  a  hunter.'  I  pay  them 
for  their  kindness  on  the  spot,  by  the  donation  of  a  canvass- 
back,  and  pass  on. 

That  evening  my  supper  is  a  rare  enjoyment,  for  some 
of  the  ducks  have  been  cooked  under  the  especial  charge  of 
my  mother.  A  little  longer,  and  I  am  in  the  land  of  dreams. 
Many,  very  many  such  days  have  I  enjoyed,  but  now  they 
are  far  from  me.  Oh !  that  I  were  an  innocent,  laughing, 
happy  boy  once  more  !  Come  back !  Come  back  !  joys  of 
my  youth ! 

Fishing  is  another  art  in  which  I  was  considered  an 
adept.  When  the  first  warm  days  lured  the  sturgeon  and 
muskalounge  from  their  deep  home  in  the  bosom  of  the  lake, 
to  ascend  the  Raisin,  1  was  always  among  the  first  on  the 
large  platform  below  a  certain  milldam,  (now  all  washed 
away,)  with  spear  in  hand  and  heart  to  conquer.  Many  a 
noble  sturgeon,  six  and  seven  feet  long,  have  I  seen  extended 
on  the  shore.  As  for  me,  I  never  aimed  only  at  the  smaller 
ones.  Once,  however,  my  spear  entered  the  back  of  a 
"whapper,"  and  my  determination  to  keep  hold  was  nearly 
the  cause  of  my  being  drowned.  It  must  have  been  a  thrill- 
ing, yet  a  ridiculous  sight,  to  see  me  a-straddle  of  the  fellow, 
and  passing  down  the  river  like  lightning.  I  think  if  Mr. 
William  Shakspeare  had  been  present,  he  would  have  ex- 
claimed,— "  Lo,  a  mer-?nan  on  a  sturgeon's  back !"  If  I 
could  enjoy  such  sport  now  with  the  feelings  of  my  boyhood, 
I  would  willingly  risk  such  a  ducking  every  day.  But  I  am 
now  a  struggler  amid  the  waves  of  life.  O,  how  many  long 
and  never-to-be-forgotten  Saturday  afternoons,  have  I  mused 
away  on  the  margin  of  my  native  stream.  How  many  perch, 
and  bass,  sun-fish,  and  pike,  and  pickerel,  have  I  brought 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  183 

from  their  pure  clement  to  place  upon  my  father's  table! 
But  those  days  are  forever  departed,  all  and  for  ever — gone 
into  their  graves,  bearing  with  them  all  my  dreams,  all  my 
hopes  and  fond  anticipations.  Desolate  indeed  does  it  make 
my  heart,  to  look  upon  the  changes  that  have  taken  place  in 
the  home  of  my  boyhood.  Kind  words  do  indeed  fall  upon 
my  ear,  but  I  feel  myself  to  be  a  stranger  or  as  one  forgotten. 
O,  I  am 

"  A  homeless  wanderer  through  my  early  home  ; 

Gone  childhood's  joys,  and  not  a  joy  to  come  ! 

Dana. 

But  let  me,  while  I  may,  recall  a  few  more  bright  visions 
from  the  past. 

Aye,  even  now  into  the  chambers  of  my  soul  are  entering 
an  array  of  winter  pictures,  associated  with  the  times  of  the 
days  of  old. 

True  as  memory  itself,  by  every  thing  that  meets  the  eye 
of  my  fancy,  I  perceive  that  winter  has  asserted  his  empire 
over  my  native  village.  Once  more  am  I  a  bounding  and 
happy  boy,  and  planning  a  thousand  excursions  to  enjoy  the 
merry  season.  The  years,  between  the  present  and  that 
happy  time,  are  vanished  into  forgetful ness,  and  it  seemeth 
to  me  that  I  am  even  now  panting  with  the  excitement  of  a 
recent  battle  in  the  snow. 

Last  night,  so  my  fancy  tells  me,  there  was  a  heavy  fall 
of  the  white  element.  This  morning,  while  walking  along 
one  of  the  streets  of  the  village,  a  snow-ball  hit  me  on  the 
back,  whereupon  I  jumped  into  an  attitude  of  defiance.  Partly 
hidden  by  a  neighboring  fence,  I  discover  a  group  of  ro- 
guish boys,  whom  I  immediately  favor  with  an  answer  to 
their  salute.  Eight  is  the  number  of  my  temporary  enemies, 
and  as  they  leap  the  fence  and  come  into  full  view,  my 
heart  begins  to  quail,  and  1  feel  a  scampering  sensation  in 
my  heels.    Just  in  the  "  nick  of  time,"  however,  half  a  dozen 


184  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


of  my  friends  who  happen  along,  come  to  my  relief,  when 
a  couple  of  shouts  ascend  to  heaven,  and  the  battle  com- 
mences. Round,  hard,  swiftly  thrown,  and  well-aimed  are 
the  balls  that  fly.  Already,  from  many  a  window,  fair  and 
smiling  spectators  are  looking  upon  us,  and  each  one  of  us 
fancies  himself  to  be  another  Ivanhoe.  The  combat  deepens. 
One  fellow  receives  a  ball  directly  in  the  ear,  and  away  he 
reels  "  with  a  short  uneasy  motion,"  and  another  has  received 
one  in  his  belly,  probably  making  still  flatter  the  pancakes 
that  are  there.  And  then,  as  a  stream  of  blood  issues  from  the 
smeller  of  one,  and  the  eyes  of  another  are  made  to  see  stars, 
a  maddening  frenzy  seizes  upon  the  whole  gang — the  parties 
clinch, — and  the  "  rubbing"  scene  is  in  its  prime,  with  its 
struggles  and  sounds  of  suffering.  One  poor  fellow  is  pitched 
into  a  snow-drift,  heels  over  head,  while  his  enemy  almost 
smothers  him  with  hands-full  of  soft  snow,  causing  his  writh- 
ing countenance  to  glisten  with  a  crimson  hue  ;  another,  who 
had  been  yelling  at  a  tremendous  rate  over  a  temporary  tri- 
umph, is  suddenly  attacked  by  a  couple  of  our  party,  who 
pelt  him  furiously,  until  he  cries  out  most  lustily — "  I  beg, 
I  beg,'  when  he  is  permitted  to  retire  with  his  laurels.  One 
chap  receives  a  stinger  of  a  blow  between  his  peepers,  ac- 
companied by  an  oath,  whereupon  we  know  that  there  is  too 
much  passion  in  the  fray,  and  while  the  victims  enter  upon  a 
regular  fisticuff,  we  find  it  necessary  to  run  to  their  rescue 
and  separate  them.  Thus  the  general  battle  ceases.  After 
coming  together,  declaring  ourselves  good  friends,  and  talking 
over  the  struggle,  we  collect  our  scattered  caps,  mittens,  and 
tippets,  and  quietly  retire  to  our  respective  homes. 

Time  flies  on, — we  have  had  a  protracted  rain,  the  streets 
have  been  muddy,  the  people  dull, — but  now  fair  weather  Com- 
eth out  of  the  north,  and  the  beautiful  River  Raisin  is  again 
sheeted  in  its  icy  mail.  For  a  week  past  great  preparations 
have   been  made  by  some  two  dozen  boys  for  a  skating  ex- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1-.") 

cursion  to  a  certain  light-house  on  Lake  Erie,  situated  about 
ten  miles  from  Monroe.  We  have  seen  that  our  skates  arc 
in  first-rate  order,  and  Tom  Brown  (an  ancient  negro  who 
was  the  "guide,  counsellor,  and  friend"  of  every  Monroe  boy) 
has  promised  to  awaken  us  all,  and  usher  in  the  eventful 
morn  in"  bv  a  blast  from  his  old  tin  horn  :  so  that  when  bed- 
time  comes,  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  say  our  prayers  and 
enjoy  a  refreshing  sleep.  Strange,  that  I  should  remember 
these  trilling  events  so  distinctly  !  But  there  they  are,  deeply 
and  for  ever  engraven  on  the  tablet  of  my  memory,  together 
with  thousands  of  others  of  a  kindred  character.  Their  ex- 
alted mission  is  to  cheer  my  heart  amid  the  perplexities  of 
the  world. 

It  is  the  break  of  day,  and  bitter  cold.  The  appointed 
signal  hath  been  given ; — the  various  dreams  of  many  a 
happy  youth  are  departed ;  each  one  hath  partaken  of  a 
hearty  breakfast,  and  the  whole  party  are  now  assembled 
upon  the  ice  "  below  the  bridge."  Then  follows  the  bustle 
of  preparation.  While  some  are  tardy  in  buckling  on  their 
skates,  others  slap  their  hands  together  to  keep  them  warm, 
while  some  of  the  smartest  and  most  impatient  rogues  are 
cutting  their  names,  or  certain  fantastic  figures,  as  a  prelude 
to  what  we  may  expect  from  them  in  the  way  of  fine  skating. 
Presently  we  are  drawn  up  in  a  line  to  listen  to  the  parting 
words  of  "  Snowball  Tom."  At  the  conclusion  of  his  speech, 
a  long  and  loud  blast  issues  from  the  old  tin  horn,  which  we 
answer  by  a  laugh  and  a  louder  shout,  and  like  a  band  of 
unbroken  colts,  we  spring  to  the  race  upon  the  icy  plain. 
Away,  away,  away.  Long  and  regular  are  the  sweeps  we  take, 
and  how  dolefully  does  the  poor  river  groan  as  the  ice  cracks 
from  shore  to  shore,  as  we  flee  over  its  surface  "  like  a  rush- 
ing mighty  wind  !"  Keen,  and  piercingly  cold  is  the  morning 
breeze,  but  what  matter?  Is  not  the  blood  of  health  and 
happy  boyhood  coursing  through  our  veins  ?     Now  we  glide 


186  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


along  the  shore,  frightening  a  lot  of  cattle  driven  to  the 
river  by  a  boy,  or  the  horses  of  some  farmer  who  is  giving 
them  their  morning  drink  ;  now  we  pass  the  picturesque 
abodes  of  the  Canadian  peasantry,  partly  hidden  by  vene- 
rable trees,  though  now  stripped  of  their  leafy  honors  ;  now 
we  give  chase  to  a  surprised  dog  returning  from  the  midnight 
assassination  of  some  helpless  sheep  ;  now  we  pass  the  last 
vestige  of  humanity  upon  the  river,  which  is  the  log  cabin  of 
an  old  French  fisherman  and  hunter  ;  and  now  we  pass  a 
group  of  little  islands  with  a  thick  coating  of  snow  upon  their 
bosoms,  and  their  ten  thousand  beautiful  bushes  and  trees 
whispering  to  the  air  of  the  surrounding  silence.  Already 
have  we  more  than  measured  the  distance  of  two  leagues 
outside  of  Pleasant  Bay,  and  our  course  is  now  on  the  broad 
bosom  of  Lake  Erie,  with  an  unbroken  field  of  solid  ice  be- 
fore us  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  The  frozen  pavement 
along  which  our  skates  are  ringing  is  black  as  the  element 
beneath,  and  so  transparent,  that  where  the  water  is,not  more 
than  ten  or  twenty  feet  in  depth,  we  can  distinctly  see  sunken 
logs,  clusters  of  slimy  rocks  and  herds  of  various  kinds  of 
fish,  balancing  themselves  in  sleep  or  darting  about  their  do- 
main in  sport.  But  these  delicious  pictures  are  for  some 
other  time, — we  are  speeding  with  the  breeze  and  cannot 
tarry.     Away, — away, — away! 

But  what  means  that  sudden  wheel  of  our  leader,  as  with 
his  voice  and  upraised  hands  he  summons  us  to  halt  ?  Half 
a  mile  on  our  lee,  and  about  the  same  distance  from  the  shore 
he  has  just  discovered  an  assembly  of  men,  with  their  horses 
and  sleighs  at  a  stand,  as  if  preparing  for  a  race.  Without 
a  moment's  hesitation  we  decide  to  be  "  on  hand,"  and  in  a 
few  minutes  are  cutting  up  our  capers  in  the  midst  of  a  hundred 
Canadians  who  are  about  to  enjoy  what  we  predicted.  Beauti- 
ful and  fantastic  carriolles  are  here,  drawn  by  sleek  and  saucy- 
looking  Canadian  pacers,  and  occupied  by  hard-fisted  men 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  187 

enveloped  in  their  buffalo-robes,  whom  we  recognize  as  friends. 
Here  we  notice  one  Beuubicn  with  his  pony  of  glossy  black, 
which  lias  never  yet  been  beaten,  and  are  told  that  the  race 
is  to  be  between  him  and  an  entire  stranger  who  has  accepted 
a  recently  made  challenge.  To  the  stranger  we  turn,  and 
find  his  horse  to  be  a  beautiful  bay,  and  of  a  more  delicate 
build  than  the  Canadian  champion.  The  race  is  to  be  two 
miles  in  length  and  the  amount  of  the  bet  five  hundred  dollars. 
All  things  being  ready,  the  competitors  move  slowly  to  the 
starting  place  with  their  witnesses,  while  the  concourse  of 
people  await  in  breathless  anxiety  the  result  of  the  race. 
Hark  !  hear  you  not  the  clattering  of  hoofs,  resounding  far 
over  the  plain,  as  if  in  search  of  an  echo  ?  Aye,  and  with 
wondrous  speed  they  are  coming  !  How  exciting  is  the  scene  ! 
In  three  minutes  more  the  contest  will  be  ended.  See  ! — 
Beaubien  is  ahead,  and  the  victory  undoubtedly  his  !  But 
now  the  stranger  tosses  up  his  cap,  and  as  it  falls,  the  flying 
pacer  understands  the  signal — he  increases  his  already  al- 
most matchless  speed,  he  passes  the  Frenchman  with  a  look 
of  triumph  in  his  eye, — one  minute  more, — and  the  unknown 
is  triumphant.  Most  unexpected  is  the  result.  The  people  are 
bewildered  and  perplexed,  but  when  Beaubien  delivers  up  the 
lost  money,  not  a  word  escapes  him,  and  he  seems  to  be 
broken-hearted.  His  darling  steed  has  been  eclipsed,  the 
swiftest  pacer  in  all  the  country  does  not  belong  to  him,  and 
lie  is  miserable.  The  sport  ended,  and  not  caring  for  the 
jabbering  of  a  band  of  excited  Frenchmen,  we  come  together 
again,  and  continue  on  our  course. 

Another  hour  do  we  while  away  along  the  lake  shore, 
now  pausing  to  get  a  little  breath,  and  now  gazing  with  cu- 
rious eyes  into  the  gloomy  forest  (which  comes  to  the  very 
water's  edge)  as  we  glide  along.  At  twelve  o'clock  we  have 
readied  the  desired  haven,  our  feet  are  gladly  released,  and 
we  are  the  welcome  guests  of  mine  host  of  the  light-house. 


188  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

By  some  the  peculiar  features  of  the  lonely  place  are  exam- 
ined, while  others,  who  have  an  eye  for  the  grand  in  nature, 
ascend  to  the  top  of  the  light-house  for  a  view  of  the  frozen 
lake — reposing  in  unbroken  solitude.  The  curiosity  of  all 
being  satisfied,  we  assemble  in  the  comfortable  parlor  of 
our  entertainer,  Mr.  Whipple,  and  await  the  dinner-hour. 
A  jolly  time  then  follows ; — many  a  joke  is  cracked,  and 
many  a  twice-told  legend  of  the  wilderness  related  ;  a  sump- 
tuous dinner  is  enjoyed ;  the  evening  hours  approaching,  we 
begin  lo  think  of  home,  and  by  the  time  the  heavens  are 
flooded  with  the  light  of  the  moon  and  stars,  we  have  taken 
our  departure,  and  are  upon  our  skates  once  more.  Without 
meeting  with  a  single  accident,  elated  by  many  a  gay  song 
on  our  way,  and  with  our  thoughts  mostly  bent  upon  the 
"  spacious  firmament  on  high,"  we  glide  over  the  frozen 
wave,  and  at  the  usual  hour  are  in  our  warm  beds,  anticipa- 
ting a  dream  of  those  things,  for  which  our  several  hearts  are 
panting. 

Hardly  a  week  has  elapsed  before  we  have  another  heavy 
fall  of  snow,  and  the  principal  topic  of  conversation  among 
the  young  people  of  the  village  is  a  sleigh-ride.  The  boys, 
about  this  time,  are  making  themselves  wonderfully  useful 
in  their  fathers'  stables,  taking  good  care  of  the  horses,  ex- 
amining the  sleighs,  collecting  the  buffalo-robes  and  polishing 
the  bells  ;  while  the  girls  are  busily  engaged  upon  their 
hoods,  cloaks,  muffs,  and  moccasons,  and  wondering  by  whom 
they  will  be  invited.  The  long-wished-for  day  has  arrived. 
Farewell's  Tavern,  ten  miles  up  the  River  Raisin,  is  our  place 
of  destination.  The  cheerful  sun  is  only  about  an  hour  high, 
when  there  is  heard  a  merry  jingling  of  bells  in  the  village 
streets.  Our  cavalcade  numbers  some  half  dozen  well-filled 
sleighs,  and  one  single-seated  carriollc  occupied  by  Abby 
Somebody  and  the  Chief  Marshal  of  the  expedition, — the 
writer  of  this  rhapsody. 


SUMMER    I.N    TUB    WILDERNESS,  189 

My  black  trotter  was  never  in  finer  spirits,  and  it  is  as 

much  as  I  can  do  to  hold  him  in,  as  with  his  neck  beautifully 
arched  he  bears  upon  the  bit.  He  seems  to  know  that  liis 
youthful  master  has  but  one  dearer  friend  upon  earth,  who 
is  the  "  bonnie  lassie"  at  his  side.  Many  and  tender  are  the 
words  then  spoken,  and  the  wide  world  before  our  youthful 
fancies  is  the  home  only  of  perpetual  pleasures.  Far,  very 
far  from  our  minds  are  all  the  stern  realities  of  life.  We 
hear  the  flail  of  the  industrious  farmer  in  his  barn,  but  do  not 
dream  of  the  great  truth  that  mankind  are  born  to  labor  and 
grow  old  with  trouble.  We  look  upon  a  poverty-stricken 
and  forsaken  Indian,  with  his  family  trudging  across  the 
snowy  landscape,  and  gratefully  reflect  upon  the  comforts  of 
our  own  homes,  and  sigh  for  the  miseries  of  the  poor.  Youth 
makes  us  forgetful  of  the  real  future,  and  the  dawning  of 
love  opens  our  hearts  to  every  tender  influence,  and  we  re- 
solve, hereafter,  to  be  very  kind  to  the  unfortunate.  The 
shades  of  evening  are  descending  upon  the  earth,  and  with 
thoughtfulness  we  gaze  upon  the  quiet  pictures  of  the  road, 
the  season,  and  the  hour.  We  pass  a  wooden  cross  with  its 
covering  of  snow,  which  was  planted  by  Jesuit  Missionaries 
a  century  ago,  and  think  of  Him  whom  we  have  been  rightly 
taught  10  worship  and  adore.  Farmers  are  foddering  their 
cattle,  boys  are  carrying  in  huge  armsful  of  dry  hickory  for 
a  roaring  fire,  and  cheerful  lights  are  gleaming  from  the 
windows  of  the  farm-houses  as  we  pass  along.  Finally  the 
comfortable  dwelling  where  we  would  he  meets  our  gaze, 
seeming  to  smile  upon  us,  with  its  various  lighted  windows,  and 
clouds  of  smoke  ascending  heavenward,  when,  with  a  few 
flourishes  of  whips,  and  a  terrible  din  of  bells,  the  sleighing 
party  comes  to  a  halt  before  the  tavern  of  friend  Farewell. 

The  upper  rooms  of  the  dwelling  are  all  ready  for  our 
reception,  and  while  the  girls  are  ushered  into  them,  the  boys 
are  attending  to  the1  comforts  of  their  faithful  horses.     In  due 

9* 


190  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


time,  after  we  have  arranged  the  preliminaries  for  a  supper, 
we  join  the  girls  again,  and  in  solid  body  make  our  appear- 
ance in  the  spacious  ball-room.  A  musician  is  already 
there,  in  the  person  of  an  ancient  negro,  who  tells  us  that  his 
fiddle  is  in  prime  order.  But  dancing  is  an  idea  of  which 
we  had  not  dreamed,  for  we  are  utterly  ignorant  of  the  polite 
accomplishment.  But  music  we  are  resolved  to  have,  and 
doubt  not  but  it  will  greatly  add  to  our  enjoyment  of  the  va- 
rious games  which  we  purpose  to  play.  Now  have  the  happy 
voices  of  the  party  risen  to  a  noisy  height,  as  we  take  hold  of 
hands  and  commence  the  game  of  Drop  the  Handkerchief, 
while  many  a  race  around  the  slippery  floor  is  run,  and 
many  a  sweet  kiss  is  given  and  returned.  Then  succeeds 
the  play  of  Button,  wherein  the  forfeits  are  redeemed  by 
making  "  wheelbarrows,"  "  measuring  tape  and  cutting  it 
off,"  and  by  "  bowing  to  the  wittiest,  kneeling  to  the  pret- 
tiest, and  kissing  the  one  we  love  best."  Then  the  stories 
of  the  Stage-Coach  have  their  turn,  which  create  a  perfect 
tumult  of  laughter.  After  Which  we  have  Blindman's  Buff, 
and  one  poor  creature  after  another  is  made  to  grope  about 
the  room  in  Egyptian  darkness.  Such  are  the  plays,  with 
many  more  of  like  character,  which  we  enjoy,  while  our  sa- 
ble friend  is  straining  away  at  his  old  fiddle,  as  if  determined 
to  be  heard  above  the  surrounding  clamor  of  talking,  laugh- 
ing, and  singing  voices. 

The  supper  hour  having  arrived,  a  general  adjournment 
takes  place,  when  the  unnumbered  good  things  of  the  table 
are  appropriated  to  their  legitimate  use.  Half  an  hour  is 
then  allotted  to  the  young  ladies  to  get  ready,  and  by  nine 
o'clock  the  sleighs  are  at  the  door,  and  after  a  delightful  ride 
of  an  hour  in  the  clear  moonlight,  we  are  at  our  village  homes, 
and  the  memory  of  our  sleigh-ride  commencing  its  existence. 

One,  two,  and  perhaps  three  weeks  have  I  been  confined 
at  school,  when  the  notion  pops  into  my  head  that  I  must  go 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  191 

a-hunting,  for  my  sporting  friend,  Francis  Bannac  (a  French- 
man), lias  told  me  that  game  is  now  quite  abundant.  My 
father  has  granted  mc  his  permission,  and  Bannac  tells  me 
that  I  may  be  his  companion  on  a  tramp  of  nine  miles  to  the 
head-waters  of  Plum  Creek.  A  pack  of  wolves,  of  whose 
depredations  we  have  heard,  are  the  principal  game  we  have 
in  view.  Having  finished  the  usual  preliminaries  of  a  winter 
hunt,  and  arrayed  ourselves  accordingly,  we  seize  our  rifles, 
whistle  to  our  greyhounds,  and  with  the  sun  midway  up  the 
heavens  start  upon  the  tramp.  A  walk  of  twenty  minutes 
brings  us  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  where  we  strike  an  ancient 
Indian  trail  and  proceed  on  our  way.  A  gorgeous  land- 
scape-panorama is  that  through  which  we  are  passing,  and 
ourselves,  I  ween,  the  most  appropriate  and  picturesque  fig- 
ures that  could  be  introduced.  Foremost  is  the  tall  and  sin- 
ewy person  of  Bannac,  with  a  snugly-fitted  buckskin  garment 
tightened  round  his  waist  by  a  wampum  belt,  cowhide  moc- 
casons  on  his  feet,  coonskin  cap  on  his  black  head,  pouch 
and  powder-horn,  together  with  knife  and  tomahawk  at  his 
side,  and  in  his  right  hand  a  heavy  rifle.  Next  to  him  trot- 
teth  the  deponent,  who  might  be  looked  upon  as  a  miniature 
Bannac,  with  variations, — while  a  little  in  our  rear  are  the 
two  hounds  playing  with  each  other,  or  standing  still  and 
looking  among  the  trees  for  game.  All  around  us  is  a  mul- 
titudinous army  of  forest  soldiers,  from  the  youthful  maple 
or  ash,  to  the  rugged  and  storm-scathed  oak  or  bass-wood  ; 
and  marvellously  beautiful  to  my  mind  is  the  tracery  of  their 
numberless  branches  against  the  blue  sky,  though  my  friend 
would  probably  liken  those  very  tree-tops  to  the  head  of  some 
"loafer"  that  had  never  made  use  of  a  comb.  The  earth  is 
covered  witli  a  thick  coating  of  dead  leaves,  with  here  and 
there  a  little  island  of  snow.  Now  we  perceive  a  beautiful 
elm  lodged  in  the  giant  branches  of  an  old  walnut,  like  a 
child  seeking  consolation  in  the  arms  of  its  father  ;  and  now 


192  SUMMEB    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


we  come  to  a  deformed  beech-tree,  prostrate  upon  the  earth, 
with  its  uncouth  roots  wasting  to  decay,  and  the  idea  enters 
my  mind  that  such  will  eventually  be  the  destiny  of  all  False- 
hood. The  woods  in  winter  are  indeed  desolate.  The  green 
leaves  are  no  longer  here  to  infuse  into  our  hearts  a  portion 
of  their  happiness,  as  they  "  clap  their  hands  in  glee,"  and 
the  joyous  birds  of  summer  are  not  here  to  make  melody  in 
their  own  hearts,  as  well  as  ours.  True,  that  mosses  of  va- 
ried hue  and  texture  are  on  every  side,  and  in  their  love  en- 
veloping stumps,  rocks,  trunks,  and  branches,  yet  they  remind 
us  of  the  pall  and  shroud.  What  footsteps  do  we  hear,  and 
why  do  the  hounds  start  so  suddenly  ?  We  have  frightened 
a  noble  buck  ;  but  a  moment  has  elapsed  and  he  is  beyond 
our  reach.  The  hounds,  however,  are  close  behind  him 
already,  and  the  three  are  bounding  away  in  splendid  style, 
illustrating  to  perfection  the  poetry  of  motion.  We  fancy 
that  the  race  will  be  a  short  one,  and  therefore  start  in  the 
pursuit,  managing  to  keep  in  sight  of  our  game.  Heavens ! 
what  a  leap  that  was  over  those  fallen  trees !  but  the  hounds 
have  done  their  duty,  and  the  course  is  once  more  clear.  A 
lot  of  ravens  far  up  in  the  upper  air  seem  to  be  watching  our 
movements,  as  if  hoping  for  a  meal  of  venison, — and  a  gray 
eagle  flies  screaming  across  our  path,  as  if  to  mock  us  for 
being  without  wings.  Glossy  black  squirrels  peep  out  of 
their  holes  in  wonder  at  the  commotion,  and  a  flock  of  wild 
turkeys  which  we  have  alarmed,  are  running  from  us  in 
great  confnsion,  like  a  company  of  militia  before  a  cavalcade 
of  horsemen.  But  see  !  the  buck  has  turned  upon  his  pur- 
suers, and  while  they  are  battling  together  we  have  time  to 
approach  within  gun-shot.  Quicker  than  thought  Bannac 
raises  his  rifle,  a  sharp  report  follows,  a  bullet  has  dropped 
the  forest  king,  and  he  must  die.  We  skin  him,  secure  the 
two  hams,  and  after  examining  our  compass,  and  finding  that 
we  are  near  our  place  of  destination,  shoulder  our  plunder 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  193 


as  best  we  may,  and  make  a  bee-line  for  the  log  cabin  of  our 
intended  host,  where  we  arrive  in  clue  time,  and  exchange 
friendly  congratulations. 

Well,  now  that  we  are  here,  I  must  give  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  the  man  whose  guests  we  are,  and  of  the  lonely  place 
which  he  inhabits.  Like  my  bachelor  friend,  Bannac,  An- 
toine  Campau  is  a  Frenchman  and  a  hunter,  but  a  widower, 
and  the  father  of  two  little  girls,  and  a  strapping  hoy  of  fif- 
teen. A  singular  love  of  freedom  first  prompted  him  to  leave 
the  settlement  where  he  once  lived,  and  to  locate  himself  in 
the  woods,  where,  between  a  little  farming  and  a  eood  deal 
of  hunting,  he  manages  to  support  himself  and  family  quite 
comfortably.  His  dwelling  is  a  rusty-looking  log  house, 
situated  on  a  pleasant  little  stream,  in  the  centre  of  a  dead 
clearing  some  three  acres  wide.  The  live  stock  of  this  em- 
bryo farm  consists  of  a  cow,  one  yoke  of  oxen,  a  pony,  a  few 
sheep,  about  three  dozen  hens,  and  a  number  of  foxy-looking 
dogs.  And  now  that  the  long  winter  evening  has  set  in, 
and  as  the  whole  family  is  present,  I  will  picture  the  interior 
of  our  cabin.  The  only  room,  excepting  the  garret,  is  an 
oblong  square  twenty  feet  by  fifteen.  The  unboarded  walls, 
by  the  smoke  of  years,  have  been  changed  into  a  rich  ma- 
hogany brown.  The  only  light  in  the  room  is  that  which 
proceeds  from  an  immense  fireplace,  where  nearly  a  com- 
mon cart-load  of  wood  is  burning,  and  hissing,  and  crackling  at 
its  own  free  will,  so  that  the  remotest  corners  are  made  cheer- 
ful by  the  crimson  glow.  The  principal  articles  of  furniture 
are  a  bed,  one  large  table  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  floor, 
and  some  half  dozen  rush-chairs,  while  in  one  corner  stands 
a  number  of  shot-guns  and  rifles,  and  a  ladder  leading  to  the 
loft,  and  from  the  rafters  above  are  hanging  pouches,  powder- 
horns,  leggins,  a  brace  of  wild  ducks,  one  or  two  deer-hams, 
and  a  bundle  of  dressed  skins.  The  dogs  of  the  family, 
numbering  only  four,  together  with   their   dandy   visitors, 


194  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

are  scattered  about  the  room, — one  lying  upon  the  hearth 
and  watching  the  fire,  one  playing  with  his  shadow,  an- 
other walking  thoughtfully  across  the  floor,  and  the  other 
sound  asleep.  A  bountiful  supper  having  been  prepared  by 
the  daughters,  the  whole  family,  with  their  guests,  are  seated 
at  the  table,  and  all  past  sorrows  and  future  anxieties  are  for- 
gotten in  the  enjoyment  of  the  passing  hour.  Bannac  and 
Campau  have  all  the  talking  to  themselves,  as  they  have  to 
relate  their  manifold  adventures  and  wonderful  escapes, 
wherein  they  make  use  of  no  less  than  three  languages — 
bad  French,  broken  English,  and  genuine  Potawattomee. 
The  leisure  hour  following  supper  is  devoted  principally  to 
the  cleaning  of  our  rifles,  the  moulding  of  bullets,  and  other 
matters  preliminary  to  the  capture  of  a  few  wolves. 

For  the  novel  mode  which  we  are  to  pursue  on  this  oc- 
casion, we  are  indebted  to  our  friend  Campau,  and  he  tells  us 
it  will  positively  prove  successful.  From  his  account  it  ap- 
pears that  only  a  few  evenings  ago  his  sheep  were  attacked 
by  the  wolves,  and  before  he  could  run  to  their  rescue,  one 
of  them  was  killed,  but  the  thieves  were  compelled  to  part 
with  it,  or  run  the  risk  of  losing  their  lives.  To-day  Cam- 
pau has  built  a  large  pen,  wherein  he  has  placed  the  dead 
sheep  as  a  kind  of  bait.  His  idea  is  that  the  wolves  will  of 
course  revisit  this  spot  to-night,  and  when  they  are  in  the  act 
of  climbing  over  into  the  pen,  we,  who  are  to  be  hidden 
within  gun-shot,  will  give  them  the  cold  lead.  Behold  us 
then  at  the  midnight  hour  in  our  treacherous  ambush. 

Listen  !  Hear  you  not  the  dismal  shriek  of  an  owl  ?  Our 
enemies  must  be  corning,  for  their  footsteps  have  disturbed 
the  feathered  hermit,  as  he  sat  upon  a  limb  with  a  red  squir- 
rel in  his  claw.  Yes,  there  they  are,  the  prowling  thieves, 
just  without  the  shadow  of  the  wood,  dodging  along  between 
the  blackened  stumps  of  the  clearing.  There  are  five  of 
them,  and  see !  with   what  activity  they  leap  into  the  fold ! 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  LOS 

Now  is  our  time  to  settle  them.  We  rush  forward  with  B 
shout,  when  the  villains  commence  a  retreat,  and  as  they 
mount  the  high  enclosure,  we  succeed  in  shooting  three, 
while  the  other  two  escape  unharmed.  The  dead  culprits 
having  been  stripped  of  their  hides,  their  carcasses  are  car- 
ried away  and  exposed  for  food  to  the  vulture  and  eagle. 
We  then  return  to  our  cabin  and  sleep  until  late  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  we  are  surprised  to  find  that  a  regular  snow-storm 
has  set  in.  Our  sporting  for  to-day,  which  was  to  have 
been  of  a  miscellaneous  character,  is  given  up,  and  Bannao 
thinks  it  better  that  he  and  I  should  turn  our  faces  homeward 
in  spite  of  the  storm.  Whereupon,  after  a  good  breakfast, 
we  take  leave  of  our  hospitable  friends,  and  through  the 
falling  snow,  enter  the  forest  on  our  return. 

Snow,  snow,  snow, — above  us,  around  us,  and  under  our 
feet,  to  the  depth  of  some  half  dozen  inches.  In  large  feathery 
Hakes  it  floats  downward  through  the  still  air,  and  it  also 
muilles  our  footsteps  as  we  tramp  through  the  pathless  and 
desolate  woods,  liyery  thing  that  meets  the  eye  is  envel- 
oped in  a  downy  covering :  not  only  the  prostrate  and  de- 
cayed tree,  but  the  "  topmost  twig  that  looks  up  at  the  sky." 
Slowly  and  heavily,  without  game,  or  a  single  adventure,  we 
are  compelled  to  trudge  along,  and  when  we  come  in  sight 
of  the  pleasant  village,  not  a  penny  care  we  for  any  thing 
else  in  this  world,  but  a  roaring  fire  and  a  warm  supper, — both 
of  which  in  my  father's  dwelling  are  we  presently  permitted 
to  enjoy — and  thus  endeth  another  portion  of  my  heart-son g. 

Among  the  peculiar  characters  which  I  remember,  while 
thinking  upon  my  early  days,  none  do  I  dwell  upon  with 
more  pleasurable  feeling  than  an  old  Indian.  My  first  ac- 
quaintance with  him  took  place  when  I  was  about  twelve 
yean  old.  It  was  the  pleasant  summer-time.  At  an  early 
hour  of  the  day  I  had  launched  my  little  birch  canoe  from 
the  sloping   bank   behind  our  orchard,  and,  accompanied   by 


196  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

Rover,  started  on  a  duck  hunt  down  the  river  Raisin.  I 
would  here  remark,  that  the  mouth  of  this  beautiful  river  is 
studded  with  islands,  and  has  been,  from  time  immemorial, 
celebrated  for  its  abundance  of  game.  As  I  paddled  along, 
I  watched  with  an  inward  joy  the  progress  of  the  morning. 
The  farm-houses  that  had  been  long  sleeping  amid  the 
silence  of  night,  were  now  enlivened  by  their  inmates,  who 
had  sallied  forth  to  perform  their  allotted  duties.  At  one 
moment  my  ears  were  saluted  by  a  chorus  of  voices  from 
some  neighboring  poultry-yard,  mingled  with  the  lowing  of 
cows  and  the  jingling  of  bells  in  the  sheepfold.  And  then 
I  heard  the  singing  of  larks  in  the  open  fields,  the  neighing 
of  a  horse,  or  the  shout  of  some  happy  boy.  The  mists, 
frightened  by  the  sunbeams,  were  rising  from  the  river,  and 
from  the  trees  on  either  side  the  dew  was  falling.  I  looked 
upon  the  changing  landscape,  smiling  in  its  freshness,  and 
felt  my  heart  swell  within  me,  for  I  beheld  the  glory  and 
goodness  of  God,  and  I  "  blessed  him  unaware." 

The  ducks  were  very  shy  that  day,  and  the  few  that  I 
did  shoot  were  taken  on  the  wing.  I  was  about  making  up 
my  mind  to  return  home,  when  I  beheld  a  single  canvass- 
back  rise  from  the  water  in  the  distance,  and,  seemingly 
unconscious  of  my  presence,  fly  directly  over  my  head.  I 
fired  at  it,  and  the  feathers  flew.  Slowly  but  surely  the 
bird  descended,  and  at  last  fell  upon  an  island  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away.  This  was  soon  reached,  and  a  long  hour  did 
I  search  for  my  game  among  the  bushes  and  grass,  but  I 
sought  in  vain.  This  island  was  about  two  furlongs  in 
length  and  one  in  width.  At  one  end  was  a  group  of  lofty 
sycamores,  and  at  the  other  three  black  pines  stood  together, 
like  robbers  plotting  the  destruction  of  an  enemy.  Between 
and  beneath  these,  the  dark-green  and  luxuriant  foliage  of 
less  ambitious  trees  formed  to  all  appearance  a  solid  mass. 
Here  the  light-green  ivy  encircled  some  youthful  ash,  from 


SUMMER    IX    TIIH    WILDERNESS.  1!»7 

whose  top  it  wandered  among  the  limits  of  other  trees  ;  and 
there,  the  eluatering  frui!  bung  in  great  abundance  from  the 
brown  grape-vine.  While  rambling  about  this  island,  I  dis- 
covered in  its  centre  a  little  clearing  or  miniature  prairie, 
on  which  stood  a  single  wigwam.  A  wreath  of  smoke  rose 
from  its  chimney  between  the  trees,  gracefully  curling  op- 
ward  to  the  sky.  I  entered  the  hut,  and  beheld  tin-  form  of 
an  Indian,  who  was  engaged  in  cooking  his  noonday  meal. 
At  first  he  was  surprised  at  my  presence,  hut  when  I  told 
him  1  was  merely  on  a  hunting  excursion,  his  countenance 
changed,  and  he  manifested  much  pleasure.  His  kindness 
and  my  boyish  familiarity  conspired  to  make  us  soon  ac- 
quainted. He  was  a  tall,  athletic,  well-proportioned  man, 
with  dark  eagle  eyes.  His  long  locks  of  hair  were  now 
whitening  with  age.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  particulars 
of  that  interview.  Let  it  suffice  to  know  that  I  departed 
from  that  "green  and  lovely  isle,"  feeling  that  I  had  a 
friend  in  the  person  of  that  old  Indian. 

-Many  a  day,  dining  that  summer  and  the  ensuing 
autumn,  did  I  spend  in  his  society.  Many  a  table  luxury 
brought  I  to  his  lonely  dwelling.  Many  a  lesson  has  he 
taught  me,  in  the  arts  of  fishing  and  hunting.  Long  years 
have  flown  since  then.  But  the  wild  and  pure  enjoyments 
which  I  then  participated  in  with  this  old  Indian,  are  deeply 
engraven  on  the  tablet  of  my  memory. 

We  used  often  to  enter  our  respective  canoes  and  explore 
the  neighboring  creeks  and  rivers,  little  islands  of  the  bay, 
and  others  far  out  into  the  lake.  We  would  bathe  together, 
at  one  time  wading  out  from  the  sandy  and  sloping  shore, 
and  again  leaping  and  diving  from  some  abrupt  headland 
into  the  clear  water,  so  clear  and  pure  that  the  shells  upon 
the  bottom  were  distinctly  seen  at  the  depth  of  twenty  feet 
or  more.  1  never  troubled  myself  about  the  origin  of  this 
old  Indian.      His   name,  to  what  nation   he   belonged,  or  his 


198  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


reasons  for  thus  living  alone,  were  things  that  I  never 
desired  to  know.  I  was  content  to  be  with  him,  and  during 
our  various  excursions,  to  listen  to  his  wild  legends,  his  nar- 
ratives of  strange  adventures  and  exploits,  which  he  would 
recount  in  broken  English,  though  always  with  the  eloquence 
of  nature.  Ofttimes  I  could  not  comprehend  his  meaning, 
more  especially  when  he  described  the  beauties  of  the  Spirit 
Land,  which  he  said  existed  far  beyond  the  setting  sun  ;  and 
also  when  he  told  me  of  its  valleys,  and  mountains,  and 
forests,  smiling  under  the  influence  of  perpetual  summer, 
where  the  singing  of  birds  was  always  heard,  and  where  the 
buffalo,  the  horse,  the  deer,  the  antelope,  the  bear,  the  wolf, 
the  panther,  the  muskrat,  and  otter,  flourished  and  fattened 
for  its  inhabitants. 

When  we  looked  upon  the  lurid  lightning,  and  listened 
to  the  sullen  roar  of  the  distant  thunder,  he  would  raise  his 
hands  to  heaven,  exclaiming,  "  the  Great  Spirit  is  angry," 
and  kneeling  down,  would  kiss  the  ground  in  fear  and  adora- 
tion. Pleasantly  indeed  did  the  days  of  that  summer,  and 
the  ensuing  autumn,  pass  away.  At  last  winter  came,  and 
the  waters  of  the  ever-murmuring  Raisin  were  clasped  in 
his  icy  chains.  In  a  little  time  I  lost  sight  of  my  old  friend, 
for  his  island  home  was  desolate, — he  had  departed, — no  one 
knew  where.  Spring  came,  and  I  was  sent  to  an  eastern 
city  to  school.  Five  years  were  flown,  and  I  returned  to 
the  village  of  my  birth.  At  the  twilight  hour  a  few  even- 
ings after  this,  I  was  seated  at  an  open  window  with  my 
mother,  inhaling  the  fragrance  of  blowing  flowers,  and  at 
times  listening  to  the  mellow  tones  of  the  sweet  whippoor- 
will.  All  the  important  incidents  that  had  transpired 
during  my  absence,  were  affectionately  and  particularly 
related.  Nothing,  however,  interested  me  so  much  as  the 
following  brief  account  of  my  old  Indian  friend,  which  I 
now  write  down  in  the  words  in  which  it  was  told  me. 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  1<>D 


"The  summer  after  you  left  us,  an  Indian  made  hie  ap- 
pearance in  our  village,  whose  poverty  and  old  age  elicited 

the  kind  sympathies  and  good  wishes  of  all  who  knew  him. 
Nothing  was  known  of  his  history,  save  that  he  belonged  to  a 
tribe  of  Potawattomees,  a  nation  at  this  period  almost  ex- 
tinct. Alas  !  for  the  poor  aborigines  of  our  country  !  To 
them  the  earth  is  a  dreary  place,  and  their  only  joy  is  in  th«- 
hope  that  they  will  soon  join  their  kindred  in  the  land  of 
spirits.  One  by  one,  like  the  lingering  sands  of  an  hour- 
glass, they  are  passing  beyond  the  grave. 

"  As  I  heard  you  talk  about  an  Indian,  with  whom  you 
had  become  acquainted  while  hunting,  I  thought  this  new 
comer  might  be  the  identical  one.  While  passing  through 
the  village  one  day,  I  happened  to  meet  him,  and  invited  him 
to  come  and  sup  with  us  that  evening.  He  did  so ;  and  we 
were  very  glad  to  hear  that  he  was  indeed  your  friend, 
whom  you  thought  dead.  We  discovered  this  fact  from  the 
manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  a  boy  hunter,  who  used  to 
visit  him  in  his  lonely  home.  From  that  day  he  became 
our  particular  friend,  as  he  had  been  before  the  friend  of 
the  whole  village. 

"His  dress  was  common,  but  in  the  true  Indian  style. 
He  was  ever  a  great  favorite  among  the  boys,  in  whose 
sports  he  often  participated.  It  was  his  custom  in  summer  to 
sit  beneath  the  great  elm-tree  on  the  green,  and,  gathering  the 
children  around  him,  rehearse  to  them  wild  stories  about 
the  red  men  of  the  forest.  Sometimes  he  would  spend  a 
whole  day  in  whittling  out  bows  and  arrows  for  his  youthful 
friends  ;  and  they  in  return  would  bestow  on  him  various 
little  presents,  both  curious  and  rare.  He  had  no  particular 
abiding  place.  There  were  a  dozen  houses  where  he  was 
perfectly  at  home.  He  seldom  alluded  to  his  tribe,  and 
never  ventured  beyond  the  limits  of  the  county.  This  was 
indeed  unaccountable;   but  as  he  seemed  to  possess  so  amia- 


200  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


ble  a  disposition,  no  one  could  believe  he  had  ever  been 
guilty  of  a  crime.  Rather  than  this,  it  was  thought  he  had 
been  banished  from  his  nation  on  account  of  some  failure  in 
warlike  exploits,  or  some  similar  cause. 

"Perhaps,  again,  he  was  an  Indian  philosopher  or 
poet,  who  had  unfortunately  drawn  upon  himself  the  ill-will 
of  his  people,  by  expressing  some  unpopular  opinion.  At 
times  he  would  enter  the  school-house,  and  listen  attentively 
to  the  boys  reciting  their  lessons.  A  printed  book  he  looked 
upon  as  a  treasure,  and  when  one  was  given  him,  con- 
sidered it  a  sacred  gift,  though  its  contents  he  could  not 
read.  He  would  often  enter  the  church  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
in  his  seat  near  the  pulpit,  with  his  head  resting  upon  both 
hands,  would  listen,  with  an  anxious  gaze,  to  the  preach- 
er's words.  He  always  left  the  house  in  a  pensive  mood. 
To  his  mind  the  heaven  of  the  Christian  was  utterly  incom- 
prehensible. Of  all  the  truths  that  were  read  to  him  from 
the  Bible,  the  most  interesting  and  wonderful  was  the  his- 
tory of  our  Saviour.  When  listening  to  this,  he  would  often 
clasp  his  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  exclaiming,  "  How 
good  man  !  how  good  man  !" 

"  On  all  occasions  of  festivity  he  was  a  welcome  guest. 
Christmas  and  New  Year  were  always  happy  days  with 
him.  The  little  girls  invited  him  to  their  pic-nic  parties. 
The  boys  on  Saturday  afternoon  had  him  to  keep  tally  when 
they  were  playing  ball.  He  was  always  the  leader  of  the 
nutting-parties  in  autumn,  and  a  participator  in  the  sleigh- 
rides  of  winter.  In  fact,  he  was  every  where,  and  had  a 
hand  in  almost  every  thing  that  transpired. 

"  About  six  weeks  ago  it  was  reported  throughout  the 
village  that  our  old  Indian  friend  was  very  sick,  and  at  the 
point  of  death.  The  intelligence  was  no  less  unexpected 
than  melancholy.  He  had  so  completely  won  the  affection 
of  every  body,  that  it  spread  a  universal  gloom.     In  a  few 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  201 

days  lx'  yielded  up  his  spirit  to  his  Father  and  his  God. 
The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  the  one  appointed  for 
his  burial.  The  sky  was  without  a  cloud,  and  the  cool 
breeze,  as  it  rustled  among  the  leaves,  brought  health  and 
refreshment  to  the  body  and  soul  of  every  one.  The  mea- 
dow-lark, and  woodland  birds  sang  louder  and  sweeter  than 
they  were  wont  to  do. — A  good  man  had  died,  and  Nature, 
animate  and  inanimate,  seemed  anxious  to  pronounce  his 
requiem.  A  larger  funeral  than  this  I  have  seldom  seen. 
Old  men  and  women,  young  men  and  maidens,  and  little 
children,  with  tearful  eyes  followed  the  old  Indian  to  his 
grave.  It  is  situated  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the  burying 
ground,  in  the  shadow  of  two  weeping-willows,  that  seem 
the  guardians  of  his  silent  resting  place." 

On  the  following  morning,  an  hour  before  sunset,  I  stood 
beside  the  clay  cottage  of  my  Indian  friend.  Green  was  the 
grass,  and  many  and  beautiful  the  flowers  that  flourished 
above  his  grave.  I  plucked  a  single  harebell  and  placed  it 
in  my  bosom,  and  its  sister  flowers  I  watered  with  my  tears. 
Those  tears,  which  were  not  the  offspring  of  corroding  grief, 
but  of  a  mournful  joy,  were  the  only  tribute  that  I  could  pay 
to  one  whom  I  dearly  loved, — who  was  born  a  benighted 
heathen,  but  who  died  a  Christian.  The  mildly  beaming 
and  beautiful  evening  star  had  risen  in  the  west,  ere  I  de- 
parted from  the  "Silent  City  ;"  but  I  felt  that  the  flower  I 
had  plucked,  though  faded,  would  in  after  hours  remind  me 
of  my  friend,  and  I  therefore  came  away  in  peace,  repeat- 
ing to  myself  these  words: 

"  And  I  am  glad  that  he  has  lived  thus  long, 
And  glad  that  he  ha9  gone  to  his  reward  ; 
Nor  deem  that  kindly  Nature  did  him  wrong, 
Softly  to  disengage  the  vital  cord. 
When  his  weak  hand  grew  palsied,  and  his  eye, 
Dark  with  the  mists  of  age,  it  was  his  time  to  die." 

Bryant. 


202  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

And  now  comes  the  conclusion  of  my  long  rhapsody. 
The  time  of  my  departure  for  my  distant  city  home  is  at 
hand.  A  few  more  wilderness  pictures,  illustrative  of  my 
native  state  as  it  was  in  other  days,  and  I  will  lay  aside  my 
pen. 

Weary  with  the  hunt,  I  lately  sought  the  shady  side  of  a 
gentle  hill,  and  extending  my  limbs  upon  the  green-sward 
amused  myself  by  watching  the  sky.  I  gazed  upon  the  blue 
canopy,  and  fancied  it  to  be  an  ocean,  beyond  which  the 
broad  and  beautiful  fields  of  heaven  were  basking  beneath 
the  smiles  of  God.  A  few  white  feather-clouds  were  floating 
there,  and  they  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  fleet  returning  from 
their  home  of  peace.  In  the  dark  regions  of  night  they  had 
fought  and  conquered  the  enemy,  and  now,  laden  with  re- 
deemed souls,  were  hastening  to  the  haven  of  eternal  rest. 
Fancy,  which  had  pictured  this  image,  was  gone;  I  saw 
nothing  save  an  eagle  playing  above  the  trees  of  the  forest, 
and  in  a  moment  I  was  a  dreamer. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  entered  the  forest  just  as  the  glo- 
rious summer  sun  was  sinking  to  his  repose.  The  evening 
star  rose  in  the  west,  and  in  a  little  while  from  the  zenith  a 
thousand  other  bright  constellations  looked  smilingly  down 
upon  the  earth.  Something  whispered  me  that  I  must  spend 
the  long  watches  of  that  night  in  wandering  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  and  I  departed  with  the  silence  of  a  shadow,  and  the 
speed  of  an  antelope.  Strange,  and  wild,  and  beautiful, 
were  the  scenes  I  beheld. 

The  mighty  trees  which  rose  on  every  side  seemed  like 
the  columns  of  a  vast  temple,  whose  mysterious  winding 
aisles,  overhung  with  a  multitudinous  foliage,  were  deserted 
and  desolate.  No  moving  objects  met  my  eye,  save  the  fire- 
flies that  darted  in  all  directions,  floating  and  sinking  like 
burning  flakes  of  snow.  The  gloomy  silence  was  broken 
only  by  the  chirp  of  the  cricket,  and  the  song  of  the  katy- 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  203 

did.  At  intervals,  too,  the  clear  soothing  voice  of  the  whip- 
poorwill  would  echo  far  and  near.  The  huge  masses  of  fo- 
liage above,  reminded  me  of  thunder-eloiids,  and  like  them 
oppressed  my  spirit;  and  it  was  so  still  that  (( the  dropping 
dew  woke  startling  echoes  in  the  sleeping  wood." 

My  pathway  was  not  smooth,  for  I  was  forced  to  leap, 
now  over  some  dead  tree,  and  now  over  a  pile  of  brush  ;  and 
again  over  a  mossy  hillock,  or  some  gurgling  brooklet.  Ever 
and  anon  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  deep  blue  sky ;  but  in  a 
moment  it  was  lost  to  view,  and  I  was  in  total  darkness.  My 
vision  was  wonderful.  1  saw  all  surrounding  objects  with 
intense  clearness  ;  for  to  me  the  "  darkness  was  as  the  lndit 
of  day."  At  times  I  paused  to  listen,  startled  by  some  dis- 
tant sound  ;  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  the  hooting  of  an  owl,  or 
the  "  trumpet-tone ':  of  a  flying  swan  ;  and  as  I  listened,  it 
would  become  a  murmur,  then  a  whisper,  and  at  last  die 
into  a  breathless  stillness. 

At  the  foot  of  a  gnarled  and  stunted  oak  I  saw  the  manly 
form  of  an  Indian,  wrapped  in  his  scarlet  blanket,  and  ex- 
tended upon  a  bearskin.  He  was  fast  asleep.  On  one  side 
of  him,  and  within  his  reach,  lay  a  bundle  of  arrows,  and  an 
unstrung  bow  ;  on  the  other,  a  knapsack  of  provisions  and  a 
wolfish-looking  dog.  But  this  guardian  of  the  slumbering 
savage  was  also  fast  asleep.  As  I  looked  upon  this  simple 
picture,  the  feelings  of  my  heart  responded  to  my  thoughts, 
and  I  exclaimed,  though  there  was  no  echo  to  my  words  : 
"  Poor  lone  Indian  !  Is  that  dog  thy  only  friend  ?  Art  thou 
indeed  alone  in  the  wide,  wide  world  ?  Hast  thou  no  wife 
to  sympathize  with  thee,  to  love  thee,  in  those  hours  of  dis- 
appointment and  troubles  incident  to  human  life  ?  No  chil- 
dren to  play  around  thy  knees,  and  make  thee  happy  in  some 
comfortable  wigwam,  when  the  blue  and  scarlet  birds  make 
melody  in  summer,  and  the  wind  Euroclydon  howls  and  roam 
among  the  forest  tn  <  -  in  winter  \     Hast  thou  no  daughter  to 


204  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


protect  and  cherish,  that  she  may  be  the  bride  of  some  future 
warrior  ?  No  son  to  listen,  with  flashing  eye,  to  thy  hunt- 
ing lessons  ;  to  smite  his  breast  with  pride  and  anger  as  thou 
tellest  him  of  the  bravery  and  wrongs  of  thy  ancestors  ?  O 
that  I  knew  thy  history  !  But  I  will  not  disturb  thy  slumber. 
May  thy  dreams  be  of  that  land  beyond  the  sunset  clouds, 
where  perpetual  summer  reigns, — the  land  of  the  Great 
Spirit, — the  God  of  thy  fathers." 

How  vividly  do  the  scenes  and  incidents  of  that  night  rise 
before  my  vision  !  I  see  them  now  with  the  same  distinctness 
that  I  beheld  them  then.  I  stand  upon  the  shore  of  that  dark 
stream,  rolling  through  the  dense  woods,  where  the  full  blaze 
of  daylight  has  not  penetrated  for  centuries.  I  hear  that 
uncouth  but  solemn  funeral  hymn,  and  see  a  band  of  stern 
red  men  performing  their  mysterious  rites  over  the  grave  of 
an  aged  chieftain. 

Not  less  sudden  than  varied  are  the  scenes  I  behold.  On 
that  high  dry  limb,  under  a  canopy  of  leaves,  a  flock  of  tur- 
keys are  roosting.  They  are  all  asleep  save  one,  and  he 
is  acting  the  part  of  a  sentinel,  darting  out  his  long  neck, 
now  this  way,  now  that,  as  if  he  beheld  an  enemy.  Fat, 
sleepy  fellow  !  There  was  a  time  when  it  would  have  been 
temerity  to  look  at  me  thus.  I  am  not  a  hunter  now,  else 
would  I  bring  you  down  from  your  lofty  resting-place. 

My  course  is  onward.  Hark  !  I  hear  a  yell,  and  a  rush- 
ing sound.  Two  wolves  are  chasing  a  beautiful  doe.  Poor 
creature  !  Its  strength  is  already  lessening,  its  race  is  run. 
The  wolves  have  seized  it.  There  is  a  struggle  ;  the  blood 
issues  from  her  graceful  neck  ;  one  gasp  more  and  the  ten- 
der mother  of  two  sweet  fawns  lies  dead.  Its  bones  will 
moulder  and  mingle  with  the  earth,  giving  nourishment  to 
that  cluster  of  hazel-bushes,  which  stand  beside  her  mossy 
death-bed.  Awakened  by  the  scent,  a  croaking  raven  is 
wheeling  in  the  distance.     Its  wings  flap  heavily,  and  there 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  205 


are  two,  and  still  another  !  See  !  we  come  to  a  kind  of  open- 
ing,— a  place  where  the  trees  grow  less  closely  together.  A 
cloud  of  thin  white  smoke  is  rising,  as  if  from  yonder  pile  of 
underbrush.  It  is  an  Indian  encampment;  a  dozen  bark  wig, 
warns,  shaped  like  a  sugar-loaf.  But  why  this  bustle,  at  so 
late  an  hour  1  The  men  have  just  returned  from  a  three 
days'  hunting  tour,  and  they  are  now  releasing  their  pack- 
horses  from  their  loads  of  spoil.  The  blaze  from  a  fire  gives 
all  surrounding  objects  a  ruddy  glow.  In  dire  confusion  upon 
the  ground  lie  haunches  of  venison,  red  and  gray  squirrels 
and  racoons,  turkeys,  grouse,  ducks,  pheasants,  and  many 
other  lesser  birds,  mingled  with  guns,  bows  and  arrows,  shot- 
pouches,  powder-horns,  skins,  halters,  brass  kettles,  and  the 
like.  The  men  are  busy,  and  the  women  too.  Roused  from 
a  four  hours'  nap,  several  children  are  coming  out  from  their 
tents,  rubbing  their  eyes.  They  seem  to  be  the  only  play- 
mates of  the  whining  dogs. 

Lo !  what  a  beauteous  sight !  A  herd  of  deer  reposing  like 
a  family  of  wood-sprites,  near  yonder  clump  of  young  ma- 
ples !  There  are  three  bucks,  five  does,  and  two  lovely 
spotted  fawns.  Upon  that  decayed  "stump"  beyond,  a  soli- 
tary American  nightingale  is  resting.  It  is  my  favorite  bird. 
Would  that  I  knew  the  cause  of  its  complainings  and  chas- 
tisement, for  every  now  and  then  it  utters  forth  the  cry, 
"Why  whip  poor  Will?" 

What  silver  rays  are  those  darting  down  through  the 
leafy  bough  ?  The  moon  !  the  moon  !  High  in  the  heaven 
she  sails,  in  queenly  beauty.  The  very  heart  of  the  forest 
is  not  beyond  her  vivifying  influence.  Festoons  of  creeping 
plants  hang  from  the  surrounding  limbs  ;  and  the  ivy  and 
grape-vine  have  twined  themselves  so  closely  around  that 
ash,  as  entirely  to  hide  from  view  the  bark  of  the  trunk.  I 
thrust  my  hand  against  a  bush,  and  a  thousand  dew-drops  fall 
to  the  earth,  glittering  in  the   moonbeams.     If  my  lady-love 

10 


206  SUMMET    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


were  with  me,  what  a  gorgeous  wreath  could  T  now  weave 
for  her  beautiful  brow  out  of  the  purple  and  scarlet  iris,  the 
blue  larkspur,  the  moccason-flower,  the  crimson  and  green 
lichen,  and  other  mosses,  flowers,  and  vines,  too  delicate  to 
have  a  name  ! 

A  gentle  breeze  is  stirring.  The  tops  of  the  trees  are 
moving  to  and  fro  with  the  strong  but  gentle  motion  of  a 
ground-swell.  Soothing  is  the  music  of  the  leaves ;  they  seem 
to  murmur  with  excess  of  joy.  Another  sound  echoes 
through  the  listening  wilderness.  It  is  but  a  scuffle  between 
a  panther  and  bear.  Let  them  growl  and  fight ;  who  cares  ? 
How  like  two  hot-headed  politicians  they  seem  ! 

Ao-ain  are  the  trees  becoming  thinner,  and  my  steps  are 
tending  downward.  The  green-sward  I  press  is  without  a 
single  .stick  or  bramble.  Here  I  am  upon  the  brink  of  a 
little  lake  of  the  very  purest  water  !  The  breeze  has  spent 
its  force,  and  every  thing  is  still.  It  is  "  the  bridal  hour  of 
the  earth  and  sky  !"  What  a  perfect  mirror  is  this  liquid 
element !  The  counterpart  of  two  willows,  a  grass-grown 
rock,  tall  reeds,  and  beyond  all,  a  row  of  slender  elms,  and  a 
lightning-shivered  pine,  are  distinctly  seen,  pointing  down- 
ward, downward  to  the  moon  and  stars,  in  the  cerulean  void 
beneath.  And  in  yon  deep  shadow  a  flock  of  ducks  are 
floating  silently,  amid  the  sweet  perfume  of  the  wild  lotus 
and  white  water-lily,  which  are  growing  near.  One  or  two 
have  wandered  out  into  the  lake,  making  no  ripple,  but 
moving  as  if  lured  away  by  the  glossy  loveliness  of  their 
shadows.  The  same  mysterious  influence  which  has  brought 
me  thus  far,  will  transport  me  to  the  opposite  shore. 

I  am  there !  yet  still  my  course  is  "  onward."  I  am 
come  to  a  little  lawn,  so  smooth  and  beautiful  that  it  seems  a 
fit  play-ground  for  the  fairies.  Perhaps  it  is  here  the  water- 
spirits  and  wood-nymphs  are  wont  to  meet,  to  revel  and 
rejoice  at  midnight,  "  the  dawn  of  the  fairy  day." 


SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  207 


What  sound  is  that!— so  like  the  far-off  tones  of  a  hun- 
dred musical  instruments,  faintly  murmuring?  Ah!  I 
thought  so.     Here  they  are  : 

"  They  come  from  beds  of  lichen  green, 
They  creep  from  the  mullen's  velvet  screen  ; 

Some  on  the  backs  of  beetles  fly, 
From  the  sitver  tops  of  moon-touched  trees, 

Where  they  swung  in  their  cobweb  hammocks  high, 
And  rocked  about  in  the  evening  breeze  ; 

Some  from  the  hum-bird's  downy  nest, 

They  had  driven  him  out  by  elfin  power, 

And  pillowed  on  plumes  of  his  rainbow  breast, 
Have  slumbered  there  till  the  charmed  hour. 

Some  had  lain  in  the  scoop  of  the  rock, 
With  glittering  izing-stars  inlaid  ; 

And  some  had  opened  the  four-o'-clock 
And  stole  within  its  purple  shade. 

And  now  they  throng  the  moonlight  glade, 
Above — below — on  every  side, 

Their  little  minim  forms  arrayed 
In  the  tricksy  pomp  of  fairy  pride  !" 

Drake. 


That  was  but  a  flight  of  fancy.  I  look  again,  and  in- 
stead of  the  fairies,  I  behold  a  myriad  of  fair  flowers,  peeping 
at  the  sky  from  the  green  luxuriant  grass. 

But  see  !     I  have  reached — surely  it  can  be  none  other 

a  prairie!  What  dark  cloud  is  brooding  over  this  motionless 
ocean  ? — a  mighty  flame  bursting  from  its  centre  ?  It  comes  ! 
it  comes !  The  prairie  is  on  fire  !  The  wind  is  rising,  and 
swift  as  the  wind  speed  the  flame-banners.  Maddened  by 
fear,  the  buffalo,  the  wild  horse,  the  wolf,  the  deer,  birds, 
and  other  living  creatures,  are  fleeing  for  their  lives.  Roar- 
ing and  hissing  the  fire-flood  rolls  on,  swallowing  up  every 
thing  in  its  course.     And  now  it  has  gone,  leaving  behind  it 


208  SUMMER    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 


a  wide  path  of  blackness.  The  smoke  obscures  the  moon 
and  stars.  "  Far-off  its  coming  shone  ;"  the  incense  of  a 
sacrifice  offered  to  the  great  God  by  the  Earth,  for  some 
enormous  sin.     But  it  is  gone  ;  and  I  resume  my  journey. 

I  am  now  in  an  open  country  of  hills  and  dales.  A  nar- 
row but  deep  river  is  gliding  by  me  in  its  pride  and  beauty. 
Now  it  is  lost  to  view  by  some  abrupt  headland,  and  anon  it 
makes  a  long  sweep  through  a  plain  or  meadow,  its  ripples 
sporting  in  the  moonlight.  I  hear  the  splash  offish,  leaping 
from  their  watery  bed.  I  hear  the  'measured  stroke  of  a 
paddle.  It  is  an  Indian  in  his  birch  canoe,  passing  down  the 
river.  He  has  started  a  loon  from  his  wavy  cradle  below 
the  rapids.  I  hear  the  sound  of  a  waterfall.  A  mile  away 
there  is  a  precipice,  where  the  river  gathers  all  its  strength 
for  a  fearful  leap.  Now  its  surface  is  without  a  ripple, — but 
in  a  moment  more,  and  it  plunges  down  among  the  rocks, 
and  the  waves  struggle,  and  leap,  and  rise  and  sink,  like  de- 
mon-spirits in  agony. 

I  am  standing  on  a  hill  which  overlooks  a  lovely  land- 
scape of  woods  and  lawns,  streams,  hills,  valleys,  and  culti- 
vated fields, — farm-houses  and  church-steeples.  In  the  dis- 
tance sleep  the  bright-green  waves  of  Lake  Erie.  A  streak 
of  daylight  is  in  the  eastern  sky.  The  spell  is  broken  ; — 
my  dream,  and  my  book  about  the  wilderness,  are  both 
ended. 


THE    END. 


D.   Appkton    <Sf  Cu.'s   Publications. 

MISS   SEWELL'S   WORKS. 

MA RGARET  PEllCIVAL : 

a  tali:. 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  Wm.  BcWKLL,  B.  A.  Two  vol-.  ISflBO.  paper  cover  SI.  Cloth 
$1  50.     Forming  Nos.    123  ami  34  "  Appleton'l  Literary  Miscellany." 

'  We  have  read  it  from  beginning  to  end  with  -.Teat  interest,  and  trust  we  are  wiser  and 
better  lor  the  |>erusal,  wiser  at  least  in  the  knowledge  ol*  duty,  and  better  in  invigorated 
resolutions  and  hopes." 

GERTRUDE : 

A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  W.  Sewell,  B.  A.    12mo.  cloth  75  cts.  paper  cover  50  cts. 

"  The  author  of  this  elegant  narrative  has  unfolded  a  profound  acquaintance  with  *ha 
human  heart  ;  and  has  successfully  adapted  her  knowledge  to  the  illustration  of  the  va- 
rious principles  of  female  conduct,  as  developed  in  ordinary  life.  We  know  of  but  few 
books  of  this  class  which  are  more  worthy  of  attentive  perusal  by  young  women,  than 
Gertrude." — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

AMY  HERBERT: 

A  TALE 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  W.  Sewell,  B.  A.  One  volume  lQmo.  Cloth  75  cents,  papet 
cover  50  cents. 

"  A  sweet  and  graceful  volume,  written  professedly  for  the  young,  which  must  give 
pleasure  to  all  who  peruse  it.  The  author  is  a  lady  who  should  make  herself  known,  so 
that  her  name,  like  those  of  Mrs.  Holtiand,  Edgeworth,  fee.,  might  pass  among  families 
as  a  household  word  of  endearment." 

LANETON  PARSONAGE : 

A  TALE. 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  W.  Sewell,  B.  A.     l*2mo.  cloth  75  cents.    Paper  cover  50  cents 

"  Highly  as  we  value  both  '  Gertrude'  and  '  Amy  Herbert.'  we  prefer  the  present  work 
to  either  of  them.  It  professes  to  be  a  Child's  Tale,  and  it  is  a  tale  of  children  ;  but  it  is 
also  a  tale  of  and  for  parents,  few  of  whom  might  not  improve  in  their  fitness  for  that  re- 
ation    by  studying  it  diligently.'- 


MISS  M'INTOSH'S  WORKS. 

TWO  ''LIVES, 

OR 

TO    SEEM    AND    TO    BE. 

By  Maria  J.  M'Intosft,  Author  of  "Conquest   and   Self  Conquest,"  "Praise  and 
Principle,"  etc.     1  vol.  ISrno.,  pa|>er  cover  50  cts.  cloth  75  eta. 

'  The  previous  works  of  Mk  M'IntOsh,  although  i-Mied  anonymously,  have  been 
popular  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word.  The  simple  beauty  of  her  narratives,  combining 
mre  sentiment  with  high  principle,  and  noble  news  of  life  and  its  duties,  ought  to  »vm 
."or  them  a  hearing  at  every  fireside  in  our  land.  We  nave  rarely  perused  a  tale  more  In- 
teresting and  instructive  than  the  one  before  us,  and  we  commend  it  nio»t  cordially  to  the 
attention  of  all  our  readers  "  —  I'rot.  Churchman. 

AUNT   KITTY'S    TALES. 

By  Maria  J.  M'Intosh.     A  new  edition, complete  in  one  vol.  ]'2mo. 
This   volume   contains  the   following  interesting   stories,  "Blind  Alice."  "JessieOrn* 
ham,"    "  Florence  Arnott,"    "  Grace  and  Clara,"    •Ellen   Leslie ;    or,  The  Reward  ot 
Belf-Control. 


I 


STANDARD  HISTORICAL  WORKS. 

Published  by  D.  Applelon  Sf  Co 
THE    HISTORY    OF    ROME, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD. 

BY    THOMAS    ARNOLD,    D.   D., 

Late  Head  Master  of  Rugbv  School,  and  Regius  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of 

Oxford. 
The  three  volumes  of  the  last  London  edition  reprinted  entire  in  two  handsome  8vo. 
volumes.  Price  $5. 
"  This  is  the  last  and  unquestionably  the  best  History  of  Rome.  It  is  best  not  merely 
because  it  is  the  last,  but  because  of  the  vigorous  intellect,  and  philosophic  spirit,  which 
have  been  devoted  to  the  work.  *  *  *  *  In  his  views  of  history,  he  admired  and 
professedly  imitated  Niebuhr ;  yet  while  he  adopted  many  of  the  theories,  and  followed 
in  the  footsteps  of  that  great  master  of  historical  philosophy,  he  was  not  a  copyist,  nor  a 
mere  compiler,  for  his  own  work  is  replete  with  spirit  and  originality." — Cincinnati  .Was. 

HISTORY  OF 

THE  LATER  ROMAN   COMMONWEALTH, 

BY    THOMAS    ARNOLD,    D.   D. 
Two  volumes  of  the  English  edition,  in  one  handsome  8vo.  volume.     §2  50. 
This  work  forms  an  essential  accompaniment  to  the  two  volumes  of  the  Early  History 

i'ust  published  ;  it  brings  the  History  down  to  the  period  of  the  final  establishment  of  the 
Jmpire  under  Augustus. 

LECTURES   ON  MODERN    HISTORY, 

BY    THOMAS    ARNOLD,  D.  D. 
With  an  Introduction  and   Notes,  by  Henry  Reed,  Professor  of  English  Literature  in 

the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 
One  handsome  volume,  12mo.     $1  25. 
"  A  better  work  than  this,  whether  its  intellectual  or  moral  character  be  regarded,  it 
seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  an  editor  to  notice." — Cincinnati  .Morning  Herald. 

"  It  is  a  book  which  will  please  the  reader  who  seeks  to  gratify  a  literaiy  taste,  or  love 
of  reading ;  and  it  furnishes  a  bountiful  repast  for  the  more  intellectual,  in  the  demands 
upon  thought,  which  it  constantly  presents." — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

'"  We  commend  it  with  great  pleasure  to  all  students  of  history,  and  to  the  lovers  of 
education  generally. — Savannah  Republican. 

A  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HISTORY, 

BY     W.     COOKE     TAYLOR,     LL.    D., 
Of  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 

REVISED,  WITH  ADDITIONS  ON  AMERICAN  HISTORY, 

BY  C.  S.  HENRY,  D.  D., 

Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  New- York. 

One  handsome  volume,  Hvo.,  of  8<XJ  pages.    8"-  25. 

t^°  For  convenience  as  a  Class-book,  the  Ancient  or  Modern  portion   can  be  had 

separately. 
"  To  the  million  who  have  neither  the  leisure  nor  the  means  of  an  extensive  reading 
of  history,  this  must  prove  a  welcome  book.     It  bears  on  every  page  the  impress  of  close 
thought  and  extensive  research." — Tribune. 

"  For  a  Text  Book  for  Colleges  and  Academies,  and  for  domestic  use,  it  is  the  best 
work  yet  issued." — Eve.  Mirror. 

HISTORY    OF    GERMANY, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME. 

BY  FREDERICK  KOHLRAVSCH, 

Chief  of  the  Board  of  Education  for  the  Kingdom  of  Hanover,  and  late  Professor  of 

History  in  the  Polytechnic  School. 

Translated  from  the  last  German  edition,  by  James  D.  Haas. 

Complete   in  one  elegant  cVo.   \olume,  of  500  pages,  with  complete  Index,  bound  in 

cloth,  SI  50. 
"  Its  merits  are  conciseness,  clearness,  and  accuracy." — New  Orleans  Bee. 
"  It  satisfactorily  supplies  a  vacancy  which  confessedly  existed  in  English  literature, 
and  will   prove  a  valuable  and   peimanent  addition  to  the  historical  department  of  our 
libraries." — Southern  C hurchman. 


WORKS    BY    M.    MICHELET. 

Published  63   D.  Applcton  fy  Co.,  200  Broadway 


HISTORY    OF    FRANCE, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD. 

TRANSLATED  BY  G.  H.  SMITH,  F.  G.  S. 

Two  handsome  8vo,  volumes. 

"  So  graphic,  so  life-like,  so  dramatic  a  historian  a»  Michelet,  wo  know  nut  when 
(Isp  to  look  for.     The;  countries,  the  raco9  of  men,  tho  timo9,  pass  vividly  buf"TA  you, 
is  you  peruse  his  animated  pages,  where  we  find  nothing  of  dlfltlMMM  or  irrelev  ni- 
cy.   Jt  is  ■  masterly  work,  and  the  publishers  are  doing  the  reading  public  a  Ml 
by  producing  it  in  so  unexceptionable  and  cheap  an  edition." — Tribune. 

HISTORY 

OF  THE 

ROMAN      REPUBLIC. 

One  handsome  l2mo.  volume.  Paper  cover  75  cts.  Cloth  •$  1  • 

"  M.  Michelet,  in  his  HUtory  of  the  Roman  Republic,  first  introduces  the  Teadet 
to  tho  Ancient  Geography  of  Italy  ;  then  by  giving  an  excellent  picture  of  the  present 
•  tato  of  Rome  and  the  surrounding  country,  full  of  grand  ruins,  he  excites  in  tho 
reader  the  desire  to  investigate  the  ancient  history  of  this  wonderful  land.  Hi>  next 
imparts  the  results  of  the  latest  investigations,  entire,  deeply  studied  and  clearly 
arranged,  and  saves  the  u  educated  reader  tho  trouble  of  investigating  the  sources, 
while  he  giv^s  to  the  more  educated  mind  an  impetus  to  study  the  literaturo  from 
which  he  gives  vcrv  accurate  quotations  in  his  notes.  Ho  describes  the  peculiarities 
and  the  life  of  the'  Roman  people  in  a  masterly  manner,  and  ho  fascinates  every 
reader,  by  the  brilliant  clearness  and  vivid  freshness  of  his  style,  while  he  hIioai 
himself  a  good  historian,  by  the  justness  and  impartiality  with  which  ho  relates  and 
philosophizes." 

THE     LIFE 

OF 

MARTIN     LUTHER, 

GATHERED  FROM  HIS  OWN  WRITINGS 

By  M.  Michelet:  translated  by  G.  H.  Smith,  F.  G.  S. 

One  handsome  volume,  12mo.    Cloth  75  cts.,  Paper  cover  50  cts. 

This  work  is  not  an  historical  romance,  founded  on  tho  lifo  of  Martin  Luther, 
1.4,  ,s  it  a  history  of  the  establishment  of  Lutheranism.  It  is  simply  a  biography, 
i^««posed  of  a  series  of  translations.  Excepting  that  portion  of  il  which  has  refer- 
er-*«  to  his  childhood,  and  which  Luther  himself  has  left  undcacribed,  tho  translator 
has  rarely  found  occasion  to  make  his  own  appearance  on  the  scene.  ***** 
It  is  almost  invariably  Luther  himself  who  speaks,  almost  invariably  Luther  related 
by  Luther.— Extract  from  M.  MicheleCs  Preface. 

THE  PEOPLE. 

TRANSLATED  BY  G.  H.  SMITH,  F.  G.  S. 

One  neat  volume,  l2mo.     Cloth  62  cts.,  Paper  cover  38  ctg. 

"  This  book  is  more  than  a  book  ;  it  is  myself,  therefore  it  belongs  to  you.  *  * 
Receive  thou  this  book  of  "  The  People,"  becauso  it  is  you— becauso  it  is  I.  •  • 
I  have  made  this  book  out  of  myself,  out  of  my  life,  and  out  of  my  heart.  I  hare 
derived  it  from  my  observation,  from  my  relations  of  friendship  and  of  neighborhood ; 
have  picked  it  up  upon  the  roads.  Chance  loves  to  favor  those  who  follow  out  on* 
continuous  idea.  Abore  all,  I  have  found  it  in  tho  recollections  of  my  youth.  To 
know  the  life  of  the  people,  their  labor  and  their  sufferings,  I  had  but  to  intorrogste 
my  memory. — Extract  from  Author'a  Prtfoc*. 


GUIZOT'S  HISTORICAL  WORKS. 


D.  Appleton  §  Co.,  publish,  complete  in  four  volumes, 

THE  HISTORY   OF    CIVILIZATION, 

FROM  THE  FALL  OF  THE  ROMAN  EMPIRE  TO  THE 

FRENCH  REVOLUTION. 

BY  F.  GUIZOT, 

Prime  Minister  of  France,  etc.     Translated  by  William  Hazlitt.     Price,  neatly  bound  in 

cloth,  §3  50  ;  or  paper  cover.  S3  00. 

"  This  work  is  divided  into  two  Parts.  The  First  contains  a  General 
History,  or  rather  a  profound  Philosophical  Analysis,  of  the  leading  events 
of  the  History  of  the  Nations  of  Europe  from  the  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire  to  1789,  and  of  the  principles  that  governed  the  historical  pro- 
gress of  Europe  during  that  period.  The  Second  contains  the  History 
of  Civilization  in  France  in  particular,  with  a  general  glance  at  the  rest 
of  Europe.  The  study  of  the  social  and  political  progress  of  what  is 
called  Modern  Civilization  is  entered  into  more  minutely  in  the  Second 
Fart,  and  hence  it  became  necessary  to  select  one  Nation  as  a  type  and 
to  study  it  particularly.  M.  Guizot  very  properly  made  choice  of  France, 
which,  intellectually,  has  been,  as  she  still  is,  the  Leader  of  Europe  in 
social  and  political  progress. 

We  cannot  speak  in  too  high  terms  of  this  admirable  work.  As  a 
perspicuous  analysis  of  those  important  political  and  religious  movements 
of  Europe,  which  have  resulted  in  the  formation  of  the  great  civilized 
Nations  that  now  exist  upon  the  earth,  and  as  a  clear  and  comprehensive 
summary  of  the  events  of  the  great  historical  epochs  that  succeeded  each 
other,  we  think  that  this  work  has  no  rival.  Others  have  written  more 
in  detail,  and  introduced  us,  as  Thierry  has  done,  more  intimately  into 
the  daily  life  and  the. manners  of  the  People  ;  but  for  a  study  of  the  prin- 
ciples that  have  lain  at  the  foundation  of  the  historical  life  and  the  work- 
ings of  Nations,  and  of  the  philosophy  of  the  historical  movements  which 
have  marked  the  progress  of  European  History,  we  think  that  M.  Guizot 
has  not  been  equalled.  His  insight  into,  and  his  dissection  of  the  causes 
that  led  to  the  establishment  of  political  institutions,  and  his  analysis  of 
the  signification  of  great  political  and  religious  events,  are  clear  and  pro- 
found, and  must  assist  the  student  incalculably  in  obtaining  a  knowledge 
of  the  history  of  which  he  treats.  The  rise  and  constitution  of  the 
Feudal  System,  of  the  Church,  the  Affranchisement  of  the  Cities,  the 
commencement  of  Intellectual  progress  in  Europe,  the  signification  of  the 
Reformation,  are  among  the  topics  luminously  explained  by  the  powerful 
talent  of  M.  Guizot. 

France  has  produced,  within  late  years,  some  remarkable  historians 
and  Appleton  &.  Co.  are  rendering  an  important  service  to  the  public  in 
republishing  their  works.  The  study  of  History  will  be  rendered  more 
attractive,  and  a  clear  view  of  principles  rather  than  a  mere  external 
description  of  events  will  thus  be  conveyed.  We  can  recommend  this 
work  to  every  reader  of  History  as  one  which  appears  to  us  indispensable."— 
Tribune. 

By  the  same  Author, 

HISTORY    OF    THE    ENGLISH 

REVOLUTION    OF    1640, 

From  the  Accession  of  Charles  1.  to  his  Death.     Translated  by  William  Hazlitt. 
2  vols.  12mo.     Paper  cover,  $1  00  ;  or  two  vols,  in  one, 'cloth,  $1  25. 
"It  is  a  work  of  great  eloquence  and  interes',  and  abounding  with  thrilling  dramatic 
•ketches." — Newark  Advertiser. 

"  M.  Guizot's  style  is  bold  and  piquant,  the  notes  and  references  abundant  and  reliable, 
and  the  work  is  worthy  of  an  honorable  place  in  a  well-selectod  library.  ' — JV.  Haven  Cour. 


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A  COMPLETE  MINIATURE  LIBRARY. 

Comprising  the  best  Work*  of  the  most  approved  Authors  in  Prose  nnd  Poetry 
BuMished  in  un  elegant  form,  with  u  beuutil'ul  Frontispiece  tu  euch.  The  following, 
are  comprised  in  thcBcrics: 


LALLA     ROOKH.     Br   Thomas 

Moon . 37  \j 

NIGHT  THOUGHTS.  Ut  Edward 

You  no 37^ 

HISTORY   OF    RA88ELA8.     lir 

Dr.  JoHsion 37 M 

PRIVATE     DEVOTIONS.        Br 

Hariiah  -More 31  % 

PRACTICAL  PIETY.      Br  Ihs- 

nah  Moaa.    2  vols C2'ij' 

BACRA  PRIVATA.     Br  Bp.  Wil- 

■a« 3U' 

THE  SEASONS.   BtJaj   Thomson.  37* 
GEMS  FROM  AMERICAN  POETS.37  ' 
VICAR    OF   WAKEFIELD.      Bl 
Oliver  Goldsmith 37* 


37* 


IRISH  MELODIES.  Bt  Thomas 
Moore 

ESSAYS  ON  VARIOUS  SUB- 
JECTS      Hr  Oliver  Goldsmith.  37 * 

EXILES  OP  SIBERIA.      Br  Mad. 

<',)TTO!» 31   % 

PURE  GOLD.  Br  Eminent  Writ- 
ers  31* 

PAUL  AND  VIRGINIA.  Br  St. 
Pierre 31* 

SCRIPTURE  PROMISES.  Br 
Samuel  Clarke,  D.  D 37* 

COURSE  OF  TIME.     Br  Robert 

POLLOK 37* 

POETIi  AL  WORKS  OF  OLIVER 
GOLDSMITH. 


TOKEN 
TOKEN   OF   REMEMBRANCE. 
TOKEN   OF   FRIENDSHIP. 


OF 


LOVE. 

TOKEN  OF  AFFECTION. 
TOKEN  OF  THE  HEART. 

Each  volume  consists  of  uppropiiate  Poetical  extracts  from  the  principal  writers  cf 
the  day.     31*  each. 

The  Library  may  be  hid  in  an  elegant  morocco  case,  with  glass  door,  forming  a 
beautiful  and  useful  ornament  for  the  Parlor  Table. 

ILLUSTRATED   STANDARD    POETS, 

Elegantly  printed  and  uniform  in  size  and  style.  The  following  editions  of  Standard 
British    Poets  are  illustrated  with  numerous  steel  engravings,  and  may  be   had   in  all 

varieties  of  binding. 


SCOTTS  POETICAL   WORKS. 

The  Poetical  Works  of  Sir  Walter 
Soott,  Bart. — Containing  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel,  Marmion,  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
Don  Roderick,  Rokeby,  Ballads,  Lyrics, 
and  Songs,  with  a  Life  of  the  Author. 
1  vol.  lunio.  cloth,  $1  25,  morocco  extra, 
82  50. 

COWPER'S  COMPLETE  POET- 
ICAL WORKS. 
The  complete  Poetical  Works  of  Win. 
Cowper,  Esq.,  including  the  Hymns  and 
Translations  from  Mud.  Gnion,  Milton, 
Jcc,  and  Adam,  a  Sacred  Drama,  from 
the  Italian  of  Batista  Andreini  ;  with  a 
Memoir  of  the  Author,  by  the  Rev.  Henry 
8tebbing,  A.  M.  Two  elegantly  printed 
volumes,  800  pages,  lGmo.  cloth,  $1  75,  or 
I  vol.  §1  50.  Do.  morocco  extru,  1  vol.  $3. 


MILTON'S  COMPLETE  POETI- 
CAL WORKS. 

The  complete  Poetical  Works  of  John 
Milton,  with  Explanatory  Notes  and  a 
Life  of  the  Author,  by  Rev.  Henry  Steb- 
bing,  A.  M.  Beautifully  Illustrated.  1 
vol.  It. mo.  cloth,  §1  25,  morocco  extra 
S2  50. 

The  Latin  and  Italian  Poems  are  inclu 
ded  in  this  edition. 

BURNS'   COMPLETE    POETI- 
CAL WORKS. 

The  complete  Poetical  Works  of  Robert 
Burns,  with  Explanatory  nnd  Glossarial 
Notes,  and  a  Life  of  the  Author,  by  James 
Currie.  M.D.  1vol.  lCmo.  cloth,  8125, 
morocco  extra, $2  50 


THE    POEMS    OF    DANTE. 

COMPRISING   THE  VISION  OF  HELL,  PURGATORY,  AND   PARADISE. 
TRANSLATED  BY  THE  REV.  HENRY  GARY,  A.  M., 
With  a  Life  of  Dante,  Chronological  View  of  hi*  An,  Additional  Notes  and  Index 
Illustrated  with  TWELVE  STEEL  ENGRAVINGS,  from  designs  by  JOHN  FLAX 
MAN,  R.  A.,  and   a  finely  cngruved    Portrait.     One  elegant  volume,  lCmo.,  $1  50. 

This  standard  classic  is  now  for  the  first  time  presented  to  the  American  public,  U 
a  stylo  worthy  of  its  intrinsic  merits. 


STANDARD  EPISCOPAL  WORKS 

Published   by    D.   Appkton    fy    Co.,  New- York. 

THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST  ; 

Or,  Hints  respecting  the  Principles,  Constitution,  and  Ordinances  of  the  CatholU 
Church.  By  Frederick  Dennison  Maurice,  M.  A.  Chaplain  of  Guy's  Hospital  Pro- 
fessor of  English  Literature  and  History,  King's  College,  London.  One  elegant  octave 
volume  of  oOO  pages.     $2  50. 

PALMER'S  TREATISE  ON  THE  CHURCH. 

A.  Treatise  on  the  Church  of  Christ.  Designed  chiefly  for  the  use  of  Students  in 
Theology.  Ry  the  Rev.  Wm.  Palmer,  M.  A.,  of  Worcester  College,  Oxford.  Edited, 
with  Notes,  by  tho  Right  Rev.  W.  R.  Whittingham,  D.  D  ,  Bishop  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church  in  the  Diocese  of  Maryland.  Two  volumes,  8vo.,  handsomely 
printed.     $5. 

PAROCHIAL  SERMONS. 

By  John  Henry  Newman,  B.D.,  Fellow  of  Oriel  College  and  Vicar  of  St.  Mary  the 
Virgin's,  Oxford.  The  six  volumes  of  the  London  edition  complete  in  two  elegant 
8vo.  volumes  of  upwards  of  GOO  pages  each.     $5. 

PEARSON  ON  THE  CREED. 

An  Exposition  of  the  Creed,  by  John  Pearson,  D.  D..  late  Bishop  of  Chester.  With 
an  Appendix,  containing  the  principal  Greek  and  Latin  Creeds.  Revised  and  cor- 
rected by  the  Ilev.  W.  S.  Dobson,  M.  A.,  Peterhouse,  Cambridge.  One  handsomeSvo. 
volume.     $2. 

MAGEE  ON  ATONEMENT  AND  SACRIFICE. 

Discourses  and  Dissertations  on  the  Scriptural  Doctrines  of  Atonement  and  Sacri- 
fice, and  on  the  principal  Arguments  advanced,  and  the  mode  of  Reasoning  employed, 
by  the  Opponents  of  those  Doctrines  as  held  by  the  Established  Church.  By  the  lata 
n>ost  Rev.  Wm.  Magee,,  D.  D.,  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  Two  volumes,  royal  8vo.„ 
heau'ifully  p-inled.     $5. 

THE  PRIMITIVE  DOCTRINE  OF  ELECTION; 

Or,  an  Historical  Inquirv  into  the  Ideality  and  Causation  of  Scriptural  Election,  ns 
received  and  maintained  in  the  Primitive  Church  of  Christ.  By  George  Stanley  Faber, 
B.  D.,  author  of  •'  Difficulties  of  Romanism,"  "  Difficulties  of  Infidelity,"  &c.  Com- 
plete in  one  volume,  octavo.     §1  75. 

PRACTICAL  SERMONS 

For  every  Sunday  and  Principal  Holyday  in  the  Year.  By  the  Rev.  Charles  Brad- 
ley, A.  M.     Two  vols,  of  English  edition  in  one.     81  50. 

PAROCHIAL  SERMONS. 

Preached  ot  Clapham  and  Glasbury.  By  the  Rev  Charles  Bradley.  From  the 
seventh  English  edition,  two  volumes  in  one.     $1  25. 

The  two  volumes  of  the  American  edition,  containing  four  volumes  of  the  English, 
bound  in  one  volume.     £2  50. 

***  The  Sermons  of  Bradley  are  highly  recommended  by  eminent  divines  of  various 
denominations. 


D.  Applet  on*  s    Valuable  Episcopal  Publication!. 

BURNET'S  HISTORY  OF  THE   REFORMATION. 

The  Hietori  of  the  Rerbrnartion  of  the  Church  of  England,  by  Gilbert  Burnet  I>  A 
lute  Lei  i  Bishop  ..i  Salisbury-  with  the  Collection  of  Records  and  a  copious  Imle» 
revised  and  corrected,  with  additional  Notes  and  ■  Preface,  bv  the  Rev.E.  NeresD 
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a  frontispiece  sod  twenty  three  portraits,  forming  foorBvo  volumes.    $8. 

Cheep  edition,  without  tlic  Records,  '3  volumes,  bvo.    82  BO. 

BURNET  ON  THE  XXXIX.  ARTICLES. 

Exposition  of  the  Thirty-Nine  Articles  of  the  Church  of  Bag  lead,  l>y  Gilbert 
Burnet,  I)  I)  ,  late  Bishop  of  Salisbury.  With  en  Append ia,  containing  the  Augs- 
burg Confession,  Creed  of  Pope  Pius  IV.,&.c  Revised  mid  corrected,  with  copio°us 
Notes  and  additional  Refareneee,  by  the  Rev.  James  R.  Page,  A.  M.,  of  Queens 
College,  Camhridgo.     One  vol.,  octavo.     $-J. 

OGILBYON  LAY  BAPTISM. 

An  outline  of  the   Argument   against  the  Validity  of  Lay  Baptism.     Br  John  D 
Ogilby,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Ecclesiastical    History.     One  vol ,  12mo.     75  cts. 

CHURCHMAN'S  LIBRARY. 

The  volumes  of  this  series  are  uniform  in   style,  and   highly  recommended  by    the 

Bishops  end  Clergy  of  the  Protestant   Episcopal  Church. 
HOOK.     The  Cross  of  Lhtist  J    Meditations  on  our  Saviour,  J6mo.         -         -     $     63 
I  \  ES     Bishop.     Sermons,      lfimo.         -         -        -         .         _        ."_        n        -       G3 
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MARSHALL'S  Notes  on  Episcopacy.     Edited  by  Wainwright,  l2mo.      -       -125 
SPENCER'S  Christian  Instructed  in  the  Ways  of  tho  Gospel  arufthe  Church. 

lfimo.  -  -  -  .  --------  -12i 

NEWMAN'S  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day.     12mo.     -       -       .       .       -125 
MANNING  on  the  Unity  of  the  Church,     lfiino.    -  •       •       -      ]  OU 

A   KEMPIS  of  the   Imitation  of   Christ,  complete.     lfimo.         -        -        -         -  1  0(1 

BHKRLOCK'S    Practical    Christian.      J6mo.         .         .....      i  oo 

BPINCKE'S  Manual  of  Private  Devotion.     IGmo.  -  ■       •       .  1  00 

WILSON  s  Sacra  Private,  complete,     lfimo.         -  ...  j  oo 

CHURTON'S  History  of  the    Early  English  Church.         -        .        .        .    "  .  i  OO 
LYRA  APOSTOL1CA.      From   the   Fifth    Oxford  edition.      18mo  -        -  75 

PAG ET'8  Tales  of  the  Village.    3  vols.     16mo. !  75 

BUTTON'S  Disce  Vivere,  Learn  to  Live,      lfimo.-        -        .         .         .        -       ]   00 

Meditations  on  the  Sacrament,     lfimo.     -        -        .        .        .        .        -100 

I>i-<-''    Mori,  Learn  to  Die.     lfimo.        --.....joo 

THOUGHTS  in   Past  Years.     Poetry,     lfimo.    .       .       .       .       .       .       .125 

CHRISTMAS  BELLS,  aad  other  Poems.     16m  >.    ......         75 

TAYLOR'S  Golden  Grove.     I6mo. 50 

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GRESLEY'S  Portrait  of  so  English  Churchman.    ......         75 

EVAN  s  Reetory  of  Yalebead.    lfimo.       -------.75 

THE  COMPLETE  WORKS  OF  RICHARD   HOOKER. 

WITH    AW    iCCOU!1T    OV     HIS    LIFE    AND    DEATH,    BT    ISAAC    VfALTOM. 

Arranged  by  the  Rev.  John  Keble.  A.  M. 

W  I  T  II    A    COMPLETE    GENERAL    INDEX, 

To  vhich  is  appended  an  Indcz  of  Texts  of  Scripture  prepared  expressly  for  this  tditic*. 

Three  volumes  of  Oxford  edition  in  two  handsome  8vo  volumes.     Prico  $1. 

*  Hooker*!  was  certainly  the   finest  mind    that    employed    itself  on  Theological 

studies    subsequently  to  the  Reformation  in  England,  and  his  great  work,  'The  Laws 

of  Beclooiestical    Polity,1  is  likely  to  fulfil  the  prophecy  of  Clement,  and  last    until 

the  fin.il  tire  shall  consume  all   learning ." — Hawet'  Sketches  0/  the  Refvrmatwm 


EDUCATIONAL    WORKS. 

Published  by  D.  jQpplcton  fy  Company. 

OLLENDORFF'S  NEW  METHOD  OF  LEARNING  TO  READ,  WRITE, 
AND  SPEAK  THE  FRENCH  LANGUAGE.  By  H.  G.  Ollendorff. 
With  an  Appendix,  containing  the  Cardinal  and  Ordinal  Numbers,  and  full 
Paradigms  of  the  Regular  and  Irregular,  Auxiliary,  Reflective,  and  Imper- 
sonal Verbs,  by  J.  L.  Jewett.     One  volume,  12mo  ,  $1  50. 

OLLENDORFF'S  NEW  METHOD  OF  LEARNING  TO  READ,  WRITE 
AND  SPEAK  THE  ITALIAN  LANGUAGE.  With  additions  and  correc- 
tions, by  Felix  Foresti,  Professor  of  the  Italian  Language  in  the  University  of 
New-York.     One  vol.  12mo. 

OLLENDORFF'S  NEW  METHOD  OF  LEARNING  TO  READ,  WRITE 
AND  SPEAK  THE  GERMAN  LANGUAGE.  To  which  is  added  a  sys- 
tematic outline  of  the  different  Parts  of  Speech,  their  inflection  and  use,  with 
full  Paradigms,  and  a  complete  table  of  Irregular  Verbs.  By  G.  J.  Adler,  A.  B. 
One  neat  vol.  12mo.     Trice  $1  50. 

M.  Ollendorff's  system  commends  itself  aa  the  best,  nay,  the  only  one  of  the  kind,  to  all  who 
desire  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  language.  It  is  fast  superseding  all  others,  both  on  the 
Continent,  in  England,  and  the  United  States. 

A  KEY  TO  THE  EXERCISES  OF  OLLENDORFF'S  GERMAN  GRAM- 
MAR.    One  volume  l2mo.,  uniform  with  the  Grammar.     Price  75  cents. 

THE  STANDARD  PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  FRENCH 

AND  ENGLISH  LANGUAGES.     Part  I.  French  and   English  ;   Part  II. 

English  and  French.     By  Gabriel  Surenne,  F.  A.  S.  E.     One  volume  l2mo. 

This  new  and  complete  Dictionary  embraces  many  valuable  improvements.  Its  plan  is  on  the 
principle  of  Reid's  new  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language,  which  has  been  so  favorably  received 
by  Ameiican  scholars. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE  ;  containing  the  Pro- 
nunciation, Etymology,  and  Explanation  of  all  Words  authorized  by  eminent 
writers  ;  to  which  are  added  a  Vocabulary  of  the  Roots  of  English  Words,  and 
an  accented  list  of  Greek,  Latin,  and  Scripture  Proper  Names.  By  Alexander 
Reid,  A.  M.,  Rector  of  the  Circus  School,  Edinburgh.  With  a  Critical  Preface 
by  Henry  Reed,  Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania.    One  vol.  12mo.,  of  near  600  pages,  $1. 

The  attention  of  Professors,  Studen's,  Tutors,  and  Heads  of  Families,  is  solicited  to  this  volume. 
Notwithstanding  its  compact  size  and  distinctness  of  type,  it  comprises  forty  thousand  words.  In 
addition  to  the  correct  orthoepy,  this  manual  of  words  contains  four  valuable  improvements: 

I.  The  primitive  word  is  given,  and  then  follow  the  immediate  derivatives  in  alphabetical  order, 
with  the  part  of  speech  appended. 

II.  After  the  primitive  word  is  inserted  the  original  term  whence  it  is  formed,  with  the  name 
of  the  language  from  which  it  is  derived. 

III.  There  is  subjoined  a  Vocabulary  of  the  Roots  of  English  words,  by  which  the  accurate 
purport  of  them  is  instantly  discoverable. 

IV.  An  accented  List,  to  the  number  of  fifteen  thousand,  of  Greek,  Latin,  and  Scripture  Propci 
Names,  is  added. 

GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  CIVILIZATION  IN  EUROPE.     From  the  Fall 

of  the  Roman  Empire  to  the  French  Revolution.     By  M.  Guizot,  late  Professor 

of  History,  now  Prime  Minister  of  France.     With  occasional  Notes  by  C.  S. 

Henry,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Philosophy  and  History  in  the  University  of  the  city 

of  New- York.     One  vol.  12mo.,  price  $1. 

"  M.  Guizot,  in  his  instructive  Lectures,  has  given  us  an  epitome  of  modern  history  distin- 
guished by  all  the  meiit  which,  in  another  department,  renders  Blackstone  a  subject  of  6uch 
peculiar  and  unbounded  praise — a  work  closely  condensed,  including  nothing  useless,  omitting 
nothing  essential ;  written  with  grace,  and  conceived  and  arranged  with  consummate  ability." 

A  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT   AND    MODERN  HISTORY;   comprising,  I. 

Ancient  History,  containing  the  Political  History,  Geographical  Position,  and  Social  Stale  of 
the  Principal  Nations  of  Antiquity,  carefully  digested  from  the  Ancient  Writers,  and  illustrated 
by  the  discoveries  of  Modern  scholar!  and  Travellers.  II.  Modern  History,  containing  the  Rise 
and  Progress  of  the  principal  European  Nations,  their  Political  History,  and  the  Changes  in 
their  So<-ial  Condition,  with  a  History  of  the  Colonies  founded  by  Europeans,  by  \V.  Cooke 
'•'aylor,  LL  D.,  of  Trinity  College.  Dublin.  Revised,  with  additions  on  American  History,  by 
C.  S.  Henry,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  New- York.  One  handsome  vol. 
8vo.  of  800  pagr>s,  $■>  2a.  ***  For  convenience  as  a  class-book,  the  Ancient  or  Modern  poition 
can  be  had  in  separate  volumes. 

This  Manual  "f  History  is  alroadv  ad  pted  as  a  text-book  in  Harvard,  Columbia.   Yal/),    Neir 
Vorl  ,  Pennsylvania,  and  Brown  Universities,  and  several  leading  Acudemius. 


